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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661838">12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/be11atrixthestrange/pseuds/be11atrixthestrange'>be11atrixthestrange</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Romance, Comfort, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Meet the Family, Mild Smut, Non-Graphic Smut, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Romance, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:10:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/be11atrixthestrange/pseuds/be11atrixthestrange</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron reflects on his relationship with Hermione, and how he managed to charm her. It wasn't all about wandwork, after all.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I just love them and think they deserve a more detailed story :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>171</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Getting To Know Her</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 1: Getting To Know Her</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>All witches are unique. Before pouring effort into charming a witch, it's important to get to know her well, Aim to understand why you like her, and stay observant, because there will always be more to learn.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ron was lying awake in bed, flipping through the old and tattered book, and he couldn't help but chuckle when he read part one, 'Getting To Know Her'.</p><p>
  <em>Like that's remotely possible.</em>
</p><p>He smiled softly at her sleeping form beside him. Her dark and bushy hair splayed wildly across both pillows, and the stress lines that appeared on her face throughout the day seemed to vanish in the night. She looked peaceful and calm, and it was contagious. Funny how the same girl that could rile him up and ignite his passion could also ease his anxiety. Her effect on him was undeniable, even this far along in their relationship.</p><p>Ron had a date planned for tomorrow, and he was pretty damn excited about it— so much that he couldn't sleep, which is why he had picked up the old book again. His anticipation for tomorrow resembled a kid's on Christmas Eve. He'd taken Hermione on plenty of dates before, but this one was going to be a surprise for her, and it had to go well. Maybe it was time to refresh his memory in the art of charming witches.</p><p>He nearly skipped this chapter the first time he read the book. It was in his sixth year, back at Hogwarts, and he scoffed at the book's assumption that he would be interested in trying to charm a witch he didn't know. He figured he could skip it because, well, he knew Hermione. They had already been through so much together, and he knew her like the back of his hand, or so he thought. But it turned out that Hermione was a complex witch, and even after years of friendship, she still managed to surprise Ron. Even now— they lived together, spent the majority of their time together, and could finish each other's sentences, but sometimes she still left him scratching his head, working new details into his understanding of her.</p><p>He recently learned that the scar on her knee was from a biking accident when she was younger. It needed stitches to heal. Muggle doctors actually sewed her skin back together. He was horrified when she told him— His parents had always been able to cast a cushioning charm around the Burrow's grounds in case someone fell from their broomstick, and any cuts and scratches could be easily repaired with a dab of dittany— no needles required. Although it was a minor detail of her life, it further differentiated his childhood experience from hers, and unveiled that a lot of his knowledge of her upbringing was based on assumptions, not facts.</p><p>She surprised him again the first time he threw her a birthday party at their new flat. They had recently moved in together, and Hermione had insisted on living in Muggle London so her parents could have easier access to their new place. To go with the theme of their home, he decided to throw her an entirely muggle party, complete with muggle decorations and games and a cake baked the hard way— magic-free. He was quite proud of the result, and definitely didn't expect her panicked reaction when she came home to find their apartment bursting with balloons. Hermione— who fought dark wizards as early as age sixteen, was afraid of balloons simply because they could pop anytime. Mental.</p><p>Ron's perception of Hermione was constantly expanding with more information— Hermione had grown into a new person over the past decade and a half. The witch he met on the Hogwarts Express was completely different from the one sleeping next to him, and he had no idea what to expect in another fifteen years. This thought used to terrify him. He remembered discussing this with his brother Bill the summer before his wedding, after learning he was going to marry Fleur.</p><p>"What if you fall in love with someone, and then they change?"</p><p>Bill's answer left Ron quite confused at first. "That's the most exciting part," he had said.</p><p>Of course, now Ron understood exactly what Bill had meant and agreed whole-heartedly. There was something exciting yet reassuring about how truly unknowable people were. Hermione was like an ocean— well studied and explored, yet ever-changing and mysterious.</p><p>At this point he had known her for fifteen years, and the words "Get To Know Her" made him laugh for completely different reasons that they did at age seventeen. This time, he laughed because he knew he never would.</p><hr/><p>There were many moments that stood out as turning points for Ron— moments when his knowledge of Hermione expanded, and his feelings for her strengthened.</p><p>There was a clear shift when he discovered her crying in the bathroom on that first Halloween, Hermione was no longer a "nightmare", but a vulnerable, insecure kid who simply wanted to fit in— just like him. He saw her in a new light, and realized her commitment to studying so much, and showing off her knowledge wasn't intended to be condescending, it was her attempt to make sense of a world of which she knew nothing. Knowing nothing meant knowing no one and the hurtfulness of his words took on an entirely new dimension. He had teased her for having no friends, but he also had the power to change that. On October 30th, she had been an annoying know-it-all, and by November 1st, she was his best friend, and he thanked Merlin every day that his eleven-year-old self had changed his opinion.</p><p>Things changed again in his fourth year. By the Yule Ball, Hermione had outgrown the young, precocious, socially awkward first year that pointed out dirt on his nose, and corrected his pronunciation of <em>wingardium leviosa</em>. She was a brilliant, confident, and strikingly pretty young woman, but his 14 year-old self was stuck to his original perception. He was forced to reassess when he saw her dancing with Victor Krum at the ball, looking magnificent in her periwinkle dress. He watched her laughing, dancing, and carrying herself with poise and confidence, while other girls lurked nearby, their faces contorted with envy. Victor Krum effortlessly ignored them because he was so drawn to Hermione, and he wasn't the only one— Ron couldn't take his eyes off of her either. Her words swam back his mind, suddenly changing everything.</p><p>"Just because it's taken you three years to notice, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl."</p><p>Why hadn't he noticed before? And now that he had, what the bloody hell was he supposed to do about it? Hermione had evolved from a friend to a girl to a girl he fancied and Ron was left with the daunting task of moving forward with that revelation, somehow.</p><p>Although unsure how to proceed, he grew accustomed to his new feelings about Hermione. He edited her character profile in his mind to reflect this new person, someone who was infuriatingly clever, beautiful, and confident. This was Hermione, not that.</p><p>He kept learning, and her definitions expanded over time. He added both<em> fearless</em> and<em> terrifying</em> in their fifth year, when she risked her prefect badge to help form Dumbledore's Army, jinxed Marrietta Edgecombe, and fought valiantly at the Ministry of Magic. He added<em> flirtatious</em> during their sixth year, when he could have sworn he saw her eyes linger on his taller, scruffier, more athletic-looking body, thanks to a combination of puberty and Quidditch. That same year, he briefly added <em>not interested</em> when her signals became too vague for him to trust, and <em>completely fucking mental</em> when she set a flock of canaries on him. Those descriptions changed again when they reconciled, and he fell right back into his old pattern of wanting her, this time slightly more confident that she felt the same way.</p><p>At that point he was convinced that knew her. He had adjusted his definitions so many times and finally felt that he had landed on something all-encompassing. But of course, he was wrong.</p><p>It was at the Burrow before Bill and Fleur's wedding when she alerted him to another unexplored cavern of her personality. It had been a few months since the Lavender incident and they'd been dancing around their feelings for one another since then. Ron wasn't sure how he was supposed to make the first move, or if it had been an appropriate amount of time to date someone new after breaking up with Lavender, so he just continued to hang around her, lamely hoping something would just happen between them.</p><p>His mother made an effort to keep them apart that summer, as she was— rightfully— scared they were planning something dangerous, so in order to spend any time together, they had to be sneaky about it. One day, his mother sent Hermione and Ginny to change all the sheets without realizing she had already asked them to, and instead of asking for a new chore, Hermione wandered up to Ron's attic bedroom where he was busy tidying up.</p><p>"Hi," she said before jumping and landing prone on his bed. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"Cleaning up my room," he replied. "Not sure why I have to do it, it's not like any of the guests will come in here."</p><p>"You know why," said Hermione. "To keep us busy."</p><p>"Oh I know," replied Ron, laughing at his mother's antics. "Care to help me?"</p><p>"No, I think I'll just sit here and watch," she said with a coy smile.</p><p>Ron looked over and grinned at her. She was so cute lying on his bed like that. He couldn't help but think she looked quite sexy too, with her skirt riding up, revealing more parts of her leg that kept him up at night. Sexy was another word Ron had added to her profile, one he found himself noticing much more frequently as of late.</p><p>He shook his head as if to jumble the randy expression that had undoubtedly formed his face, giving away thoughts that were best kept to himself— at least for now. At this point, they had not discussed where they stood relationship-wise, and gawking at her exposed thigh could easily ruin anything that remained unsaid.</p><p>"Mind if I join you?" he asked. He winced as he said it, hearing the unintended flirtatiousness of the words only after they left his mouth.</p><p>Fortunately his comment was well received. "Well, maybe take me to dinner first..," she said playfully before shifting toward the edge of his bed, making room for him to sit down.</p><p>He felt his face warming as he lowered himself to the bed beside her and realized he had nothing to say. Dreading an awkward silence, he spluttered the first question that came to mind. "So uh, have you ever been to a wedding before?"</p><p>She turned onto her side to face him before nodding. "A few, but only muggle weddings. I was actually a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding last summer."</p><p>Ron had expected that she'd attended a wedding before, as most people had. He was surprised by the other part of her answer. "You… have a cousin?"</p><p>"Yeah," said Hermione. "This was Ellie's wedding. She's about five years older than me. Have I not told you about her?"</p><p>"No, I thought it was just you."</p><p>"Hmm," she said contemplatively. "I don't have any siblings, but I have a lot of cousins. My extended family's actually quite big."</p><p>It wasn't a personality-altering detail, but it revealed a sudden gap in his data. Ron wracked his mind for any missed conversations where he could have learned more about her family. "I never knew that. Are you close to your cousins?"</p><p>She shrugged. "Well I guess I just don't talk about them that much. But growing up they felt like my siblings."</p><p>"Do you visit them a lot?"</p><p>She hesitated before answering. "I used to," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. Ron suddenly regretted asking about her family, remembering what she had just done to keep them safe. "I probably won't see them much anymore. At least not for a while."</p><p>In a moment of courage, he reached for her hand, which was lying on his bed between them. He squeezed it gently and smiled. She returned the gesture, caressing the back of his hand in a way that sent shivers down his spine, but Ron was distracted by the glisten in her eyes as she reflected back on her family.</p><p>Also, his head was spinning. Hermione knew his family so well after their years of friendship, it almost felt like she was part of it. How had she never mentioned this detail about hers? Had he never even asked?</p><p>He had only met her parents once or twice, and he didn't really converse with them when he did. Hermione had spent holidays with his family. His mum would send birthday and Christmas presents. Fred and George would take the mickey out of her like she was their own sister. She felt comfortable waltzing into his bedroom and sitting on his bed, and he had never even been to her house. He didn't even know what it looked like.</p><p>"Can I meet them someday?" he asked boldly. "Your cousins, I mean."</p><p>She paused in thought before answering cautiously. "Well, they don't know I'm a witch. They think I attend a muggle boarding school. Whenever I visit them, I have to lie about everything. It's a lot of work. A lot of stress."</p><p>Ron hadn't thought of that— she lived in a world that her family knew nothing about. Even if they got through this war, and she reunited with them, he would have to learn a whole lot more about muggles in order to keep up the lies she must have developed over the years. "I'm a good liar," he said. "And a quick learner."</p><p>"I'm happy to hear it," she laughed.</p><p>Ron chuckled too, glad he could cheer her up, even if temporarily. But he was overwhelmed by this new information. There was a lot he didn't know. He wondered what she told her cousins she studied at school, and what they thought she was planning to do after graduating. He didn't even know how many cousins she had, how old they all were, or their names.</p><p>Now that he thought about it, he didn't even know her parents' names.</p><p>"What are your parents' names?" he asked.</p><p>"Jean and Hugo," she answered. "Why?"</p><p>"I'm just curious." He looked down at her hand, which he was still casually holding. He gave it another squeeze and saw her smile brightly at him when he did it, and he grinned softly back at her. It was the same Hermione, yet there was still even more about her to discover— things about her that he had never even thought about.</p><p>He felt a bit guilty learning exactly how many questions he'd never bothered to ask. But his guilt was overshadowed by his excitement to learn more. He really was a quick learner when the topic held his interest, and nothing held his interest quite like Hermione Granger.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Being Vulnerable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter 2 is here! There's a fair amount of angst in this chapter, so be warned. I hope you like it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 2: Being Vulnerable</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>At this point, you've likely put some serious effort into getting to know the witch in question. If she's opened up to you, and allowed you to see her true self, you must grant her the same privilege. Let her get to know you too, so she can make an informed decision as to whether or not she wants to be charmed by you.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Hermione was still fast asleep next to him, snoring adorably. He would make fun of her for it tomorrow, and like she always did, she would deny she snored. He remembered how surprised she was the first time he told her she snored. He had mentioned it so casually because he thought she already knew. </p><p>Later, she admitted that it had embarrassed her. She had no idea that she snored every night, and was mortified to think he’d heard it every time they’d shared a bed. He took immense pleasure in knowing something about her that she didn’t. He wondered if she harbored any secrets about him that he had yet to learn. He smiled at the thought-- that she knew more about him than he did. Years ago, that thought would have terrified him.</p><p>He looked down at his book and ran his fingers over the first words of the second chapter, <em> Being Vulnerable </em>. He didn’t fully understand it’s true meaning when he first read it, but now it made perfect sense.</p><p>Ron was quite proud of how he and Hermione had let go of their inhibitions and could just be themselves around each other. He no longer felt the need to impress her-- she loved him, and it would take a lot to change that. </p><p>Just a few days ago, they were curled up on the sofa, watching one of Hermione’s favorite muggle movies. He loved muggle movies, and this particular one deeply moved him. At one point, he had tears falling from his eyes, unable to hold them in, and Hermione simply handed him a tissue box without breaking eye contact with the telly. </p><p>Last year, when Hermione bought him a pensieve for Christmas, he immediately poured some of his early memories into it, and took her on a tour. It didn’t even cross his mind to tamper with them, filtering out the most embarrassing parts to save his pride. He could have avoided her seeing him panic the first time he found a spider in their flat, or learning exactly how she appeared in his late-night dreams as a teenager, but he didn’t even think about it. </p><p>A few weeks after they moved in together, Hermione had come home early to find Ron singing in the shower. He did it every day, but this time he had forgotten to cast a muffliato charm. Later that night, she encouraged him to serenade her with his very own rendition of Celestina Warbeck’s A Cauldron Full Of Hot Strong Love-- he’d done it in the shower, why not now? He could have been mortified, but it didn’t phase him at all. He tried to make it as enticing for her as possible, dancing and slipping off his clothing as he sang to her. He wasn’t sure how attractive his striptease was, but it was <em> successful </em>, so what did he have to be embarrassed about?</p><p>He smiled at the memories. It all demonstrated an ease of vulnerability that he’d begun to take for granted. It hadn’t always been like that.</p><hr/><p>Once Ron realized that there was a wealth of information that he didn't know about Hermione, it turned out to be quite easy to fill the gaps. Anytime they found themselves alone together, any looming silences in their conversation were quickly mitigated by an inquiry about her favorite childhood vacation spot (<em>Paris</em>), her favorite novel (<em>Pride and Prejudice</em>), or any hidden talents or skills (<em>Playing the piano and speaking French</em>).</p><p>Like he almost did with step one, he nearly glossed over step number two. Be vulnerable? Let her get to know you? <em>She knew him</em>. Didn't she? He wasn't exactly hiding anything. At least, that's what he thought.</p><p>He let the question of how well she knew him linger on his mind, and soon enough those opportunities to be a little bit more vulnerable started to surface.</p><p>The first instance was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. He was a few butterbeers deep, and had just watched his eldest brother profess his love in front of their entire family and friends. If Bill could do that without breaking a sweat, how hard could it be to ask Hermione to dance?</p><p>There were many opportunities to ask, but Ron wanted to wait until the right moment. Unfortunately, that plan went out the window when Viktor Krum landed in the seat next to Hermione, and turned to her, ready to ask her himself. Ron forgot all notions of timing when he felt his fists clench, and his ears turn crimson red.</p><p>"Come and dance," he spluttered.</p><p>He winced when he heard himself say it. It didn't even sound like a question, but a command. Although it was not how he planned it, and sounded nothing like "<em>Hermione Granger, will you please dance with me?</em>" he was still pleasantly surprised, giddy even, when she accepted his invitation.</p><p>As they danced, he continued to gather information, asking her details about the last wedding she'd been to- cousin Ellie's wedding, if he remembered correctly. He learned that she wore a mint colored bridesmaid dress, she had nearly tripped over her heels while walking down the aisle, and Ellie's dad had too many whiskeys before his speech, and no one could understand it.</p><p>They continued to dance and engage in lighthearted conversation until she asked him a question that he wasn't prepared for. "Are you still jealous of Viktor?"</p><p>Ron narrowed his eyes across the dance floor where Krum was talking animatedly with a disguised Harry. He felt heat rising up his neck, and that familiar pit of envy settled heavily in his stomach. "No," he lied. "I was never jealous of him."</p><p>Hermione stiffened in his arms, and he grimaced at himself. <em>Why did he have to deepen the lie?</em> "Well I was way back in fourth year," he clarified, "but not anymore."</p><p>It was still a lie, and he knew that. He was pretty sure she did too.</p><p>"So that's not why you invited me to dance?" asked Hermione.</p><p>Ron cleared his throat. "I was going to ask you either way." He gulped before he continued. "And I wanted to ask you before he did."</p><p>"Why is that?" she asked. She wasn't going easy on him.</p><p>He knew his face now resembled an overripe tomato, and if he didn't think about his words carefully, he'd stutter though his answer, so he started slowly. "Because, I was worried you'd prefer to dance with him." He exhaled relief when he felt Hermione squeeze his shoulder affectionately.</p><p>"You have nothing to worry about," she assured him, settling more comfortably in his arms.</p><p>Ron felt his face slowly returning to it's normal pale and freckly shade. He knew how he felt. <em>Why was it so difficult to tell her?</em></p><p>There were more moments like that, when Ron found himself resisting the growing intimacy between them. Even though he craved more closeness with her, it also left him feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. He knew he should lean into it, but too often he felt himself putting up his guards, even though he didn't really want them to be there.</p><p>He was bedridden for a few weeks when he nearly lost his arm in a splinching accident disapparating from the Ministry. He felt helpless. He couldn't even take his own shirt off. In an effort to assess the damage, Hermione levitated him to a bed in the tent, and started gently tugging at the hem of his shirt.</p><p>It wasn't how he'd imagined her undressing him for the first time- his fantasies typically involved less blood and more dignity. He responded by squirming away from her hand, and using his good arm to jerk the hem of his shirt out of her grasp.</p><p>"Hermione, stop," he said through gritted teeth, wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder.</p><p>"Ron, please, I need to see how bad it is." Her voice was panicked, her expression harried and pleading. "Please let me."</p><p>Ron grimaced as she reached a second time for his shirt, but again, he shouldered her away. "I'll do it," he told her firmly.</p><p>"Ok, ok," said Hermione, pulling her hands away defeatedly.</p><p>Ron tried to wiggle out of his shirt, but gasped in pain the moment he tried to lift his splinched arm. The blood from his shoulder soaked through the fabric, which adhered to his skin, and he knew he needed a second hand to get out of it. It made complete sense to let her help him, yet something in the back of mind told him that it would change things.</p><p>He feared that she would find him unattractive, or even worse, helpless and weak. Yet he knew he needed assistance, and she was willing, so he swallowed his dignity and nodded his permission. She gently pulled his shirt over his head, holding his injured arm steady as he closed his eyes which burned with painful tears. He tried to control his breath, willing himself not to cry in front of her, because that would only make him look more pathetic.</p><p>The feeling of helplessness from that night didn't go away. Instead it continued to build, growing stronger every day Hermione had to help him change his bandages, or they had to delay their plans because he wasn't strong enough yet. He was beginning to feel like a deadweight, holding his friends back from what they really wanted to do.</p><p>He knew somewhere deep down that their concern simply meant that they cared, but he managed to convince himself that he was a burden, and that they would be better off without him. He bottled up those feelings for <em>weeks </em>until he couldn't anymore. Then he was left with two choices- tell them how he felt, or leave them alone.</p><p>After weeks of being tended to by an increasingly stressed-out Hermione, who was now privy to this helpless side of him, and countless nights overhearing her and Harry whispering behind closed doors, wondering <em>how much longer</em> it would take him to recover, he felt he didn't have enough dignity left to tell them anything. He'd asked enough from them already, and didn't need to burden them further with his petty fears and insecurities. So he decided to leave.</p><p>His argument with Harry confirmed his suspicions- that he wasn't wanted or needed. But a flickering of doubt came from his final words with Hermione before he disapparated beyond the wards.</p><p>"Ron, why are you doing this?" She had followed him outside into the pouring rain, the water weighing down her bushy hair, making it appear almost too heavy for her head to carry. "After all we've been doing for you?"</p><p>Ron clenched his jaw, and felt his face turn red, this time in anger. "After all you've done for me?" He spun around to face her, looking her directly in the eyes. "You didn't need to do any of that."</p><p>She took a step back, narrowing her eyes skeptically. "Yes, we did Ron. You would have died. You needed our help to recover."</p><p>"I can take care of myself," he said through clenched teeth, his hands forming fists. "I never needed you."</p><p>Her eyes widened in shock, before her gaze softened and glistened with tears. "I was happy to do it," she said softly. "Always."</p><p>For a brief moment he wanted to stop everything and run to her, to hug her and tell her it was ok, and that he was thankful for her help. But something stopped him, and told him that Hermione respected a man who could take care of himself, someone who didn't burden her with his problems, someone like Harry.</p><p>"Well now you don't have to," he said.</p><p>And then, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Reading Her Signals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for your kudos, comments, and subscriptions! I'm so glad people are enjoying this story. A huge thank you to sm_jl and adenei for looking this over before I posted.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 3: Reading Her Signals</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>When you've developed a mutual understanding of one another, it'll become important to demonstrate your knowledge. Pay attention to the way she communicates, both verbally and non-verbally. Learning to read her signals will make her feel understood. Be sure to ask for clarification when you doubt her meaning, and more importantly respond to feedback if you get it wrong. If you can do this, you'll be well on your way to charming her.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ron had just turned to chapter three of <em>12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches</em> when something broke his attention. Hermione's breathing picked up it's pace, growing shallower and faster in her sleep. Even though it had been years, she still experienced nightmares from that dreadful day at Malfoy Manor. He knew not to wake her, because they could be worse when she fell asleep the second time. Other times, waking her from them would prevent any more sleep, only to leave her staring anxiously at the ceiling, reliving the nightmare in her memory.</p><p>He transferred the book into his other hand so he could inch closer to her. He slipped his free arm across her and guided her gently to her side. Her breathing changed abruptly, and he froze, hoping that he hadn't woken her up. He tentatively placed her head against his chest, and she responded by curling up closer to him, and her breathing steadied. Relieved she was still asleep, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead before turning his attention back to the book.</p><p>The interaction was well rehearsed. Through trial and error, he had learned how to calm her out of a nightmare without waking her. He understood the warning signs that preceded one, and he could usually mitigate it rather quickly by holding her firmly against him so she could hear the calming rhythm of his breath.</p><p>Admittedly, he was better at reading her body language when she was awake. He could tell if she had a bad day at work simply by the heaviness of the <em>thud </em>her bag made when it hit the floor. On those evenings, he would pour her a glass of wine as she hastily changed into clothes that might as well have the words "<em>we're ordering take away tonight</em>" cross stitched to the front.</p><p>At his annual office party, he swiftly changed the subject when his team began talking about their most recent case- an Azkaban escapee who tortured muggles- because he saw the color drain from her face, and she gripped her wine glass a little more firmly. He knew she was ready to leave by her forced politeness when his colleague explained a piece of legislature that she had written herself, and the piercing glare she gave an inebriated guest who mumbled his appreciation for her low-cut dress.</p><p>They had even streamlined their communication in the bedroom. He wouldn't bother to cast a contraceptive charm if he found her bundled up in an oversized jumper, so absorbed in a book that she startled when he entered the room. Other times, he didn't need to ask if, or how she wanted him to touch her. He knew by the way she smiled before tangling her fingers in his hair and gently tugging his lower lip between her teeth. On those nights, he would confidently slip a hand under the lace of her knickers, and watch as her eyes closed contentedly and her cheeks turned bashfully pink. Her breath would catch in her throat, she would dig her fingers into his skin, and there'd be no need to say anything at all.</p><p>Sometimes he wished he could go back in time, simply to shake his former self by the shoulders and expose every missed opportunity. He could have had her sooner, if only he'd been able to read her signals.</p><hr/><p>Their first kiss took him by surprise. He had accepted that it wouldn't happen until the war was over, but the war was definitely not over when it did. He thought about that kiss often, specifically to remind himself exactly what he did to provoke it. He had expressed a mild concern over house-elves fighting in the battle, and suddenly, without warning, her lips were on his, he had lifted her off her feet, and Harry was mumbling something unintelligible in the background.</p><p>Upon reflection, he realized that his comment about house-elves was one of many possible things he could have said in that moment, all of which would have produced the same result. Hermione later described it with a muggle phrase- <em>the straw that broke the camel's back.</em> It wasn't that particular comment, but the accumulation of many smaller moments over the past few months, which eventually made <em>not kissing him</em> seem utterly insane.</p><p>One of the first moments he could recognize as a misread signal took place just a few days after he rejoined the hunt. He didn't want to pressure Hermione into forgiving him, so he avoided the topic of his abandonment all together, even though he knew it eventually had to be discussed. There was an opportunity one night, when he took over the watch and sent Hermione to bed. Things were still quite tense between them, so he was taken aback when she offered to stay with him.</p><p>"You really should sleep," he told her. "I'll be fine." If he wasn't so surprised by her offer, he might have been able to establish more control over his tone. Maybe then he would have sounded thankful rather than dismissive.</p><p>"It goes by faster when you have someone to talk to," she replied. "I can stay <em>if you want.</em>"</p><p><em>If you want</em>. Her emphasis on the words echoed tauntingly in his mind. Of course he wanted her to, and she knew that. He tried to convince himself that he was misinterpreting her tone, but the lingering voice of the locket reminded him that he didn't need her company, and that he'd be asking too much by letting her stay.</p><p>"I can take care of myself, Hermione."</p><p>"I know you can," she continued, wrapping her blanket more tightly around her body. "But I honestly don't mind."</p><p>He did want her to stay, but only if she wanted to, and he simply couldn't be sure that she did. He was wrong, of course. He could have accepted her offer, and they might have started healing that night. He might have been able to explain how the locket affected him, and share what it had said before he destroyed it. Maybe then, they would have curled under her blanket together, fingers interlaced, while she rested her head on his shoulder, cushioned by the bushy pillow of her hair.</p><p>"You really should go to bed,," is what he told her instead, which unfortunately sounded nothing like '<em>please stay', </em>and left little room for her to misinterpret his words like he wanted her to.</p><p>So she didn't stay. She turned her back to him and left for bed, dragging her blanket on the floor behind her as it picked up dirt and dust along the way.</p><p>They had another miscommunication a few weeks later. On a particularly chilly morning, he cautiously approached her, and settled onto the opposite end of the sofa. Since his return, he had been holding back any physical affection. He no longer hugged her before bed, or affectionately tucked her hair behind her ear, or brushed his hand against hers when they passed each other. He wasn't even sure if he could sit next to her on the sofa. These things felt like privileges he had lost when he left, and he didn't dare overstep any boundaries.</p><p>"It's pretty cold, isn't it?" she asked him, without looking up from her copy of <em>Beedle the Bard. </em>She was bundled up in her jumper, which was worn and nearly threadbare after months on the run.</p><p>"Yeah," he nodded. "It is." They had become more comfortable with small talk since he'd returned, but Ron couldn't help but think she was filling the space with meaningless conversation to distract from her lingering anger.</p><p>A few moments of silence passed before she softly spoke up again. "My jumper isn't thick enough."</p><p>Before he could let his mind wander to more fun ways to warm her up, he pulled the hem of his own jumper up and over his head. He wiggled himself out and handed it to Hermione. "I'm not really that cold. You can wear mine"</p><p>"Thanks," said Hermione, and though she was smiling, something else in her tone made him think twice about whether he'd done the right thing. Either way, she pulled his jumper over her own head, and her hair burst through the neck like a butterfly leaving its cocoon.</p><p>"Of course," he said, suddenly very aware of the intimacy of her wearing the jumper that he wore to sleep every night. He risked a glance at her, accidentally catching her gaze.</p><p>She grinned softly under his eye contact. "I'm <em>still </em>cold though."</p><p>Ron felt the color creep up his neck. He wanted to believe this was an invitation to move closer. He could warm her right up by joining her under that blanket, and wrapping his arms around her. If it truly was an invitation, he could explore what it might feel like to run his fingers through her hair, or press his lips to her skin, all in an effort to keep warm, of course.</p><p>Although it sounded like an invitation, he couldn't risk being wrong.</p><p>"I'll get you another blanket," he said, before getting to his feet to retrieve his comforter from his bunk.</p><p>They carried on like this, second guessing every signal, tiptoeing around apologies and forgiveness until that <em>dreadful day </em>at Malfoy Manor, when he nearly lost her.</p><p>He had to block the memory from replaying endlessly in his mind, or else he wouldn't be able to function enough to enjoy the fact that she survived, and he still had a future with her. He spent days by her bedside, promising himself that when she woke up, he would tell her everything. He'd apologize for leaving, he'd open up about the locket, and he'd finally tell her loved her.</p><p>But the moment never felt right. For days, she faded in and out of consciousness, while Fleur tended to her wounds. He helped, of course, carrying her when she couldn't walk, changing her bandages, applying dittany on her cuts and bruises, and helping her dress when Fleur needed a hand.</p><p>Weeks passed, she began to recover, and Ron hardly left her bedside. Then the nightmares began. He would stay up all night, tears streaming down his face as she relived the torture in her sleep, unable to wake her up and desperately wishing he could do something, anything to make it stop. There were no nefarious motivations behind that first time he crawled into bed with her to wrap her in his arms, hold her head against his chest, and breathe rhythmically until she matched her breathing to his.</p><p>He did it every night. She would refuse to sleep until he slid under the blankets with her, draping an arm across her as he nestled his face into her hair. It had begun to feel natural, and he knew they'd never go back to sleeping alone.</p><p>They had yet to kiss, but it already felt like they had far surpassed the intimacy of a kiss. There was one night, when they were lying awake, foreheads together, when she reached a hand to his face. Her fingers slipped into his hair and she gently ran a thumb down his jawbone. He gave her a weak smile, which she returned. Then he shifted his gaze to her lips. <em>This is a sign</em>, he thought, and when her cheeks flushed pink and she nervously bit her lower lip, he was certain it was.</p><p>But he didn't kiss her.</p><p>He hesitated because in the morning, she would need his help reapplying dittany to a few of the deeper cuts left by the chandelier. She would tell him to avert his gaze while he helped her change out of her nightgown, because she still didn't have the strength to do it by herself. Then she would drape her arm around his shoulders, while he supported her down the hall so she could use the bathroom, and she would ask him to take the stairs first, just in case she lost her balance and needed someone to catch her fall. He could have kissed her, and he truly thought she wanted him too, but in the small chance she didn't, she wouldn't be able to get up and leave the bed without angering her injuries, and she would have no one to coax her out of her next nightmare.</p><p>Instead, he tugged her toward him, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They stayed like that for a few moments, before she snaked her arm around him and inched even closer so she could bury her face into his shoulder. He felt hot tears slide from her cheeks to his shirt, soaking it though so that it adhered to his skin, the same way it did when he was splinched months earlier. But this time it was <em>Hermione</em> who was hurting, and there was so much he wanted to say, but he didn't think the right words existed, so he simply held her close, letting her cry into his shirt. He hoped she understood why he wasn't <em>really</em> kissing her, and that she saw it as a promise that soon, he would.</p><p>So weeks later, when Hermione jumped into his arms in the Room of Requirement, he felt understood. He returned her kiss with enthusiasm, and for a few moments, he was completely unaware of his surroundings. They broke apart only when Harry's mumbling became clearer, reminding them that <em>there was a war going on here</em>, and asking if they could <em>just hold it in a little longer. </em>Ron wanted to laugh, because really, the right moment was now or never. His mind ran through every opportunity and signal that he had missed, and he wondered what sign he had given Hermione just now to spark her confidence in kissing him. Whatever it was, he was so thankful that she could read it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Initiating a Relationship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again for your kind comments! :). And Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans. I'm thankful for Ron Weasley and towels that don't stay put. (Don't get too excited...)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 4: Initiating a Relationship</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>By now, you've likely developed a stronger bond with the witch you aim to charm. Do not assume that she knows what you want. When you are ready to begin a romantic relationship, it's important to make your intentions very clear. If you are met with rejection, you must accept it gracefully, and with respect. If your feelings happen to be mutual, feel free to celebrate, as the start of a new relationship is an exciting time. But keep this book close by, because the real work is just beginning..</em>
</p><hr/><p>Hermione's head had now been resting heavily on Ron's arm for quite some time. When he tried to wiggle his fingers, he was unsure if he'd been successful, but the attempt sent a wave of sharp prickles to his shoulder. He propped himself up on his functional elbow as to slither the unresponsive arm out from underneath her.</p><p>Wincing, he opened and closed his fist until it started to feel like his own again. In the absence of his arm, she turned away and settled back into stillness. There was suddenly a lot more space between them, made possible by their extra large bed, a brilliant investment that had prevented more arguments than they would ever realize.</p><p>They'd been confined to single beds during their first few months of sharing sleep, and at first Ron didn't mind. Sleeping next to Hermione was a luxury, and it seemed foolish to care if there wasn't enough room for his legs, or if she accidentally jabbed his ribs with her elbow, or he woke the next morning to discover his arm had fallen asleep so painfully that he thought he'd been splinched again.</p><p>The novelty of falling asleep while intertwined like lovers in a Shakespeare play wore off rather quickly. By the time that they moved in together, Hermione's suggestion that they invest in <em>a very large bed</em> had come as a huge relief. "<em>I love you, but I need sleep</em>," is what she had told him, echoing his sentiments exactly. It turned out that more space led to adequate rest, and adequate rest meant they had energy to explore the more salacious advantages of having a bed that size.</p><p>Other novelties wore off as they settled back into their more familiar dynamic. He knew the shift had happened one morning in bed together, when he slipped off her bra to reveal a birthmark he had never seen before. Even though his stomach sank to learn she normally hid it with a beauty charm, he still grinned triumphantly as he leaned in to kiss it, because she no longer felt the need to. It was evident by the time they showered together and <em>nothing happened</em>, because a functional and effective shower actually wasn't very sexy at all. He definitely knew it when she bought a single admission ticket to a muggle play because she knew it wouldn't interest him, and she didn't want him to feel guilty staying home.</p><p>The intentional relationship building in the beginning now felt more distant, but there were still times that brought Ron right back to the early days. When Hermione fell ill with a nasty flu, Ron took a day off simply to sit with her, make her soup, and read to her. He even bit his tongue at the irony that her favorite book was about a young girl aiming to marry rich, and gave her his best Mr. Darcy impersonation as he read aloud. At the very least, it made her smile, and he had to admit that maybe his first impression of the book was misguided. When he joined a local Quidditch league, he rediscovered how <em>god awful </em>his playing could be when he was nervous. Hermione, who long ago admitted how uninterested she was in watching Quidditch, still came to watch him play every week. He was a much better player when there was a beautiful witch in the stands holding up a sign that read '<em>Weasley Is My King.' </em></p><p>It meant even more to him now, knowing she was there because she wanted to support him, not because she felt like she needed to pretend to like Quidditch. At the very beginning, he might have feigned interest in classic romance novels, or muggle plays because that's what good boyfriends were supposed to do, but he liked the freedom of not having to. It took the pressure off of being the perfect match for each other, so they could spend their energy making each other happy instead.</p><hr/><p>Ron stood motionless in the shower, his back to the wall, while the scalding hot water poured over his body. He normally preferred his showers lukewarm, but today the stinging heat felt therapeutic. The water burned painfully, but it was better than feeling nothing at all, and numbness seemed to be his only other option. He kept his eyes open and focused on the showercurtain. Logically he knew that the battle was over, but his body hadn't caught up yet, and he didn't dare turn his back to the curtain in case there really was a death eater waiting to strike.</p><p>He listened to the running water in the shower beside him. Hermione was in there, and even though she was safe, he still felt unsettled by the wall that separated them. She hadn't left his sight since Malfoy Manor, and it felt wrong that he couldn't see her now. He had no way to express that when they parted ways for separate showers, because they hadn't even shared their second kiss, so "<em>let's shower together," </em>would have been too much of a leap.</p><p>A relaxing shower was beyond his expectations, but eventually the steady heat of the water focused him enough to take his mind off of the showercurtain, and any death eaters lurking behind it. There was only one other thing that he was willing to think about- Hermione. So much had happened since their first kiss in the Room of Requirement, and he had no idea how to pick up where they left off. The task of initiating a second kiss felt a bit like destroying a horcrux, because he knew he had to do it, but had no idea how.</p><p>The chivalrous side of him wanted to wait until they were fully clothed, and then walk her to the stairs of the girls dormitory where she had a familiar bed. He would tuck her hair behind her ear before gently guiding her face closer for a chaste peck on the lips. The randy side of him wanted to step into the shower stall with her, pick her up, and hold her against the wall while he snogged her senseless. Hopefully she'd respond enthusiastically, wrapping her legs around his hips, and for the first time he wouldn't mind the deafeningly loud pipes of the castle's shoddy plumbing. The logical side thought it more likely that they would crawl into his bed together, just like they had every night at Shell Cottage. This time when they laid face to face, foreheads together, he'd kiss her right on lips like he wanted to so many times before.</p><p>It happened in none of those ways. She was standing at the sink after her shower, wearing her threadbare jumper and an oversize pair of joggers, studying her reflection in the mirror. His clothes were still in her beaded bag, so he wrapped his towel tightly around his hips, hoping it was secure enough to stay put. She'd seen him shirtless before, but that was before their first kiss, so it felt more intimate now. He approached her cautiously, trying to ignore his own self consciousness, hoping she wouldn't be embarrassed by his state of undress.</p><p>"Can I get a change of clothes from your bag?"</p><p>He waited for his answer, but his question didn't seem to register. Instead, her eyes narrowed at her reflection and her voice croaked when she asked, "I hope I didn't look this awful when I kissed you."</p><p>A lump formed in Ron's throat. He had never thought Hermione cared about her looks. She never fawned over her own image or obsessed over beauty charms, and he'd never heard her criticize her appearance. His stomach tightened in guilt when he remembered the times he called another girl a troll, fell victim to Fleur's veela charm, or made a crude comment about Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks. He'd intentionally never said anything about Hermione before, but maybe his comments about other girls were enough to pick away at her own self confidence. Then again, maybe he was giving himself too much credit, and telling her that he thought she was beautiful wouldn't be enough.</p><p>"Hermione," he started, before she interrupted him again.</p><p>"I don't need you to answer that, Ron," she said, still avoiding his eye contact in the reflection.</p><p>So he didn't answer her. Instead, he reached for her hand, turned her around, took a deep breath, and kissed her.</p><p>Suddenly, it didn't matter that he was only wearing a towel. The self consciousness he felt about his pale, bruised, and freckled body just made him feel more connected to her, because he knew he wasn't alone in feeling that way. And if the cuts on her face, and her singed hair, and <em>whatever the fuck she was referring to before, </em>did absolutely nothing to change how beautiful she was, maybe, just maybe she felt the same way about him.</p><p>Kissing Hermione for the second time in a cold and dirty bathroom wasn't his plan, but he forgot where he was when she snaked her arms around his waist and pulled herself closer. He <em>finally</em> discovered what it felt like to tangle his fingers in her bushy hair, and slide his tongue along her lower lip, relishing in the fact it wasn't just a scalding hot shower that could shake the numbness from his body.</p><p>Eventually his towel loosened around his waist, and he realized that the only thing that was holding it up was the contact of her hips against his. There was a part of him that wanted it to fall down so she would see all of him, just to <em>get that part over with</em>, so he didn't have to feel conscious anymore. But realistically, he knew he couldn't rush his insecurities away, and if he was feeling this way, there was a good chance she might be too. With hesitation, he pulled himself away from her, and hiked his towel back up with a sheepish grin. Blushing, she nodded toward her beaded bag on the floor, and affectionately squeezed his arm before leaving him alone in the bathroom so he could change.</p><p>When he reentered his dorm moments later, she had already slipped under the covers of his former bed. He had previously just assumed they'd sleep together, but maybe it was different now, and it would feel too forward. He could sleep in one of the empty beds, if it made her more comfortable.</p><p>"Can I?" he asked nervously, gesturing awkwardly toward the bed. "I could sleep in another one, <em>if you want.</em>"</p><p>She simply smiled, and lifted the blankets for him, and he crawled in, thankful that she didn't misinterpret his tone the way he might have if the roles were reversed. They settled against each other in the same way that had become routine over the past few weeks, but this time he could kiss her. So he kissed her for the third, fourth, and fifth time, but after that he lost count, and just kept kissing her until the feel of her lips, her hands, and her breath became familiar.</p><p>There was such a clear shift, and he knew what it all meant to him, and he knew it meant the same to her. He could feel it, so it felt silly to mention, but when they were lying awake, face to face, foreheads pressed together, he plucked up the courage, and asked her the question. "What are we now?"</p><p>"We're Ron and Hermione," she said sleepily, and somehow that conveyed it all. They were Ron <em>and </em>Hermione. A pair, a unit, partners.</p><p>"Ron and Hermione," he repeated softly, smiling, before falling asleep with her head on his arm, as heavy as a bowling ball. It was probably cutting off circulation, and he'd wake to a prickly limb, but he couldn't bring himself to care.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Establishing a Relationship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's chapter 5! Major thanks to sm_jl and adenei for beta-ing.</p><p>TW for mentions of death, and panic attacks</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 5: Establishing a Relationship</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Now that your relationship has begun, you must learn how to truly become a partner. Establishing and maintaining the relationship will require constant work, as both parties will change and evolve through life. However, committing to a growth mindset and learning how to compromise will make the relationship extremely rewarding.</em>
</p><hr/><p>There was a scratching at their bedroom door. Ron looked up from the fifth chapter, Establishing a Relationship, to see an orange paw gently prodding the door open. Crookshanks bounced across the room and hopped into the bed, assertively nudging Ron's hand away from the book.</p><p>Five years ago, Ron probably would have pushed the cat off of the bed. Heck, if Hermione was awake right now, he would have done the same. Instead, with a sideways glance beside him to make sure Hermione was soundly sleeping, he moved the book off of his lap so Crookshanks could curl up there instead.</p><p>The purring cat melted into Ron's hand as he scratched him behind his ears. "Hey, buddy," said Ron affectionately, as Crookshanks began kneading his shirt with his claws. He rubbed his face against Ron's hand, and Ron moved down the cat's spine, until he stuck his rump straight up in the hair. Cats are weird, he thought.</p><p>It had become their little routine. Every time Hermione fell asleep before him, Crookshanks would find his way to Ron to soak up every ounce of affection Ron would give. In the early days of their relationship, Crookshanks didn't want anything to do with him, hissing and swatting when Ron became the focus of Hermione's attention, his competition. When Ron was alone with the cat, or Hermione was asleep, limiting the cat's affection options, Crookshanks slowly warmed up, allowing Ron to pet him for a few minutes at a time. Over time, they had become best friends by night, but played each other's enemy by day. Ron hated to admit how much the creature had grown on him since third year.</p><p>Reluctantly becoming a cat dad wasn't the only indicator of their status as boyfriend and girlfriend. Eventually, introducing Hermione as his girlfriend stopped feeling awkward, and he no longer felt the need to casually mention her at work parties, simply so he could practice using the new term. He knew the shift had been made when Hermione received a wedding invitation addressed to both of them by name, rather than the former "Hermione Granger and Guest", and when his mom knit them matching Christmas jumpers one year.</p><p>There were simple things he had mastered by becoming involved with a Muggle-born witch. Learning to order food with the telephone, and to pay for it with the correct amount of muggle money was a larger project that he had anticipated- a project fit for a boyfriend-, and nowadays he insisted they order out at least twice a week, because using the phone was so much fun. Although he thought her obsession with true crime shows was mental, he learned how to record them on their television, and he now understood how to navigate the train system that connected their flat with the airport, so he could pick up Hermione's parents when they flew into London for holiday visits.</p><p>There were more complicated things too. When he became adept at using the internet and researched the symptoms of a panic attack, he learned that he was supposed to stay calm and promised himself he'd never raise his voice in fear if it ever happened again, and even though he knew it hurt her, she understood that he would never want to celebrate their anniversary because it fell on the same day that Fred died. He learned that they would occasionally screw up, and say the wrong thing, and that sometimes being Ron and Hermione meant that they wouldn't always feel like best friends. But most importantly, he learned that he couldn't push her away during difficult times, especially if he ever expected her to lean on him in return.</p><hr/><p>The morning after the battle, Ron and Hermione, along with Harry and the rest of the Weasleys went back to the Burrow. Even though there were more people than usual at home, the old house still felt unsettlingly empty. At first the only one who reacted to Ron and Hermione's new relationship was Crookshanks, who suddenly had to compete with another man for affection. Otherwise, they did their best not to draw attention to their new status, and Hermione seemed to fade into the background with Harry, while they tried to make themselves helpful guests so the family could grieve and make preparations for the funeral. So as thrilling as it could have been, becoming Ron and Hermione happened at a bad time to assure a smooth transition. Unfortunately, there was no chapter in 12 Fail Safe Ways To Charm Witches about navigating a new relationship while mourning your dead brother.</p><p>He didn't feel charming at Fred's funeral, when he sobbed into Hermione's arms, dripping tears and Merlin knows what else into her hair. He had hardly spoken to her or touched her in days. When they managed to find some solitude in his attic bedroom, and he tried to get lost in kissing her, he often became overwhelmed with guilt. He didn't feel charming when he pushed her away, turning his back to her so she didn't see him crying mid-snog, because all he could think about was how his brother would never get to kiss a girl again. He avoided her every time he felt like he was going to cry, because Hermione would try to make him feel better with a hug, and she deserved someone who didn't respond to her touch with anger, grief, and tears. He couldn't avoid her seeing him cry at Fred's funeral, so he sobbed violently against her as she stroked his back, and tried to ignore the small voice in the back of his head that told him he was asking too much from her.</p><p>After the ceremony he sat on the dock by the pond, because he couldn't bother to hear anyone's condolences again. She found him there, and nestled up against him, dangling her feet into the water, and didn't say anything. Then he cried again, because she didn't say anything, and that was exactly what he needed.</p><p>He never returned to the house that night. He stayed on the dock, Hermione brought him a plate of food, and they ate in silence. The sun set, and she reached into her bag, and pulled out the bottle of firewhiskey that she'd smuggled from the alcohol cabinet in the living room.</p><p>He raised his eyebrows when she unscrewed the cap, and took a long sip. She winced as it went down, then handed the bottle to Ron, who did the same. They passed it back and forth wordlessly, until it was dark, and the world was blurry, and his eyes were tapped out of tears. Then he finally talked. Without inhibitions, he told her how guilty he had felt being with her that whole week. He said he'd give anything to go back to the day before Fred died, even though it was before Voldemort was killed, and before they had even kissed. He told her he wasn't sure if he'd ever truly feel happy or complete again. She cried with him, and he was grateful he had someone who was willing to share in his burden. She cast a cushioning charm on the dock, and pulled blankets out of her bag, and they settled into a comfortable embrace before Ron drifted off to sleep, thinking that if he was doomed to a life of unhappiness, at least it would be with Hermione.</p><p>He woke the next morning to the blinding sun, a raging headache, and Hermione in his arms. She was awake, and she smiled gently at him when he turned to her.</p><p>"Morning," she said softly.</p><p>"Morning," he grumbled back. He attempted a smile but it probably looked more like a grimace.</p><p>"Do you feel ill?" she asked.</p><p>Ron nodded.</p><p>Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a small vial. "This might help."</p><p>He uncorked the vial and dumped the pepper up potion into his mouth. It helped immediately. He looked back at Hermione who grinned again, before lovingly tucking his hair behind his ear, the same way he did to her.</p><p>"Why are you being so nice to me?" He couldn't help himself asking the question, as he'd been ignoring her, shutting her out for days.</p><p>She looked momentarily hurt. "Because I'm your girlfriend," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Aren't I?"</p><p>He felt stinging tears and he tugged her close. "Of course you are." She hugged him back, the tears spilled from his eyes, and they felt like Ron and Hermione again. He allowed himself both to cry with her and kiss her, because maybe he could grieve and love at the same time.</p><p>No one came looking for them that morning, and for that Ron was thankful. Something about the closure of the funeral, and echo of the word Hermione had used to describe herself, girlfriend, made today feel like the start of a new chapter.</p><p>"When are we going to Australia? To find your parents?" he asked her, to be met with a smile and an embrace that he returned with genuine enthusiasm.</p><p>
  <strong>******</strong>
</p><p>They took a portkey to Melbourne less than a fortnight later. As a token of thanks for all they'd done to end the war, and his promise of a pardon for any illegal magic performed defensively, Kingsley had arranged for a team of Australian Aurors to help locate her parents. They had done so rather quickly, as there weren't too many recent British expats practicing dentistry in Victoria. Nearly as soon as they arrived, they were given a folder containing the address of their home and dental practice. After renting a hotel room near their St. Kilda residence, the only thing left to do was reverse the memory spell. Ron assumed it would happen the next day, but it didn't.</p><p>He was surprised, yet somewhat pleased, at her suggestion to explore the city first. They'd never traveled together for fun so he wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to eat kangaroo burgers by the beach or take a romantic stroll through the botanic gardens. It was actually quite nice to practice acting like a couple in a different country, where no one knew who they were, what they've done, or that they weren't together just a few weeks ago. He could hold her hand, put his arm around her shoulders, or pull her in for a kiss on the pier without worrying about a wolf-whistle from a brother, or worse, a talk about safety from his dad. They spent an entire week ignoring their agenda, and Ron started to wonder if she was avoiding the task ahead. He knew she was when she suggested they ride the wooden death trap that muggles called roller coasters at Luna Park.</p><p>"What if, instead of that," said Ron, gesturing toward the roller coaster with his rapidly melting ice cream cone, "We go find your parents."</p><p>Hermione continued to stare straight ahead from their place on the bench. She shook her head.</p><p>"What's going on, Hermione."</p><p>"What do you mean?" she asked unconvincingly.</p><p>"The museums, the restaurants, the dates," he attempted in a casual tone, as he took another slurp of his ice cream. "I'm having a great time, don't get me wrong. But you know we'll eventually have to see them."</p><p>He looked over at her, but she was still staring blankly ahead, He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to react. To say something.</p><p>"We can't avoid it forever, you know."</p><p>After a few moments of tense silence, her breathing became shallower, her face deepened in color, and the ice cream cone fell from her hand and landed in a splat on the concrete between them.</p><p>"Hermione, are you ok?" asked Ron.</p><p>She shook her head as she lowered her face into her hands, as her breathing picked up it's pace. "No….," she exhaled, but couldn't get any more words out before she was overtaken by full bodied sobs.</p><p>"Hermione?" he said hurriedly. "What's wrong?"</p><p>He tried to reach an arm around her shoulders, but she shoved him away, the adrenaline providing much more force than necessary. She continued to sob and shudder, before placing her hands on her throat, reminding Ron of a fish out of water.</p><p>"Hermione, you're worrying me. Please tell me what's going on."</p><p>Ron's words didn't seem to register with her. He looked around him to check if they had drawn the attention of anyone, but the deafening sounds of laughter, carnival music, and screams from the roller coaster muffled them from anyone who might have stepped in to help.</p><p>"C'mon Hermione, answer me," he said a little more forcefully, now feeling panicked. Logically he knew she would answer him if she could, and that thought made him want to hyperventilate too. "Just breath, Hermione! Please-"</p><p>Her sobs suddenly became raspier, and her body continued to heave as if trying unsuccessfully to pull in more air. Her face was turning redder every moment, and then without warning, she leaned forward and threw up on the concrete before them. Ron stared at her wide-eyed, as she gasped for air and returned back to her sobs, but this time they sounded deeper and more nourishing. He tentatively reached his hand to her again, and this time she didn't flinch when he pulled her closer, so her head rested on his shoulder, smearing tears, and sick, and Merlin knows what else onto his shirt, but he didn't care. He was just glad she seemed to be breathing.</p><p>They didn't talk about it. When she finally came around, she hurried off into the nearest public loo, and Ron waited there as his unfinished ice cream cone dripped down his hand. When she returned, there seemed to be a mutual understanding that it was time to return to their hotel. So they did.</p><p>When they arrived, Hermione, still looking embarrassed, immediately opted for a shower, and Ron thought it would be a good time to try ordering room service. After all, he was part of Hermione's life now, and if he couldn't protect her from whatever just happened at Luna Park, he should at least learn how to use a telephone.</p><p>A few days later, Hermione finally agreed to find her parents. Fittingly, it was raining on the day they knocked on her parent's front door. They gave each other a quick glance, and before the door opened, Hermione slipped her hand into his. He heard her take a deep breath before they saw the doorknob turn, and they were suddenly face to face with the greying features of Mr. Hugo Granger.</p><p>"Can I help you?"</p><p>They had planned this moment, but like many things in their recent experience, it didn't go as expected. They didn't plan for Hermione to freeze, caught up in the emotion of seeing her father for the first time since the war. Neither were prepared for the lack of recognition in his face.</p><p>"Hi Dad," said Hermione softly, as Ron grimaced at her giveaway.</p><p>"Excuse me?" said Hugo Granger in confusion. "Dad?" Before Hermione could backtrack, the tension was broken by a large golden retriever that came bounding up to Ron.</p><p>"Hey buddy!" said Ron, as he leaned down to scratch the dog's ears.</p><p>"Herman! No!" sounded another voice. "Hugo grab him!" Jean Granger appeared behind her husband, reaching for the dog..</p><p>"Right," said Hugo, with a lingering look of confusion at Hermione before he turned his attention to the dog.</p><p>"Hermione, now," whispered Ron. She nodded, and while her parents were looking down, she withdrew her wand and aimed it right at them.</p><p>"I'm sorry, he's still a puppy and doesn't know how big-," Jean paused mid sentence, before slowly returning upright as Hermione's counter charm took effect.. "Hermione?"</p><p>"Mom," whispered Hermione.</p><p>The expression on Jean's face turned from affection, to confusion, to anger, before landing back on affection. She opened her arms, and Hermione collapsed into her embrace.</p><p>Ron looked at Hugo, who had also risen to his feet, but his eyes were focused on Ron, not on the two women embracing beside him. Ron was unsettled by the fact that he couldn't read his expression at all.</p><p>"Ron Weasley, if I remember correctly," he said curtly.</p><p>Ron nodded.</p><p>"I'm sure there's a very good explanation."</p><p>Even though it wasn't a question, Ron nodded again.</p><p>Hugo then broke their eye contact and turned toward his daughter, reaching his hand out to embrace her too.</p><p>Ron simply stood back with his hands in his pockets and observed the moment Hermione had been worrying about for the past few weeks. She was sobbing again, but this time it didn't concern Ron at all. He felt a cold, wet nose brush against his leg, and looked down to see Herman wagging his tail. For something to do with his hands, and because Herman was pretty cute, he crouched down to pet him.</p><p>"Also… Herman?" he heard Hermione ask once she had broken free of her parents' embrace. "Sounds a lot like Hermione."</p><p>"I guess our memories were just a little too strong. They pushed through," said Hugo stiffly.</p><p>"I'm so sorry," wavered Hermione. "Will you let me explain?"</p><p>"Of course, honey," said Jean, embracing her daughter again.</p><p>Ron, who was still busy petting Herman, suddenly felt Hugo Granger's eyes on him again. "The dog sure seems to like you."</p><p>Ron anxiously looked up, but was pleasantly surprised to see that Hugo was grinning at him. "Yeah, well," shrugged Ron. "I really like Herman."</p><p>Hugo chuckled. "How about a drink?"</p><p>"Oh, I'm fine," said Ron quickly, but a quick look from Hermione made him back track. "Er, actually, a drink sounds good."</p><p>Hugo was already pouring him one. "Well come on in. We've got a lot to catch up on."</p><p>An explanation was due soon, but the Grangers took that night to reconnect with their daughter. To Ron's pleasant surprise, he was welcomed into their home like he was family too.</p><p>He was even more surprised when he sat on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance from Hugo Granger's daughter, and she simply inched closer to him so that they were knee to knee. She smiled brightly at him, and gratefully patted his knee in a way that she never had when they were just friends, and he smiled back before taking a sip of the stiff drink that Hugo had poured for him.</p><p>It could have been that smile, or the fact that he was suddenly thinking of Hermione as Mr. Granger's daughter. Or it could have been Hugo's suspicious eyes and Jean's excited grin when he tentatively slipped his arm around her shoulders, but that day, he truly felt like Hermione's boyfriend, and he knew they would figure everything else out later.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Physical Affection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shoutout to sm_jl and adenei for their feedback on this chapter!<br/>Thanks again for your comments/subscriptions/bookmarks/kudos! My heart is full.<br/>Lastly, I rated this story explicit for chapters like this, so fair warning ;).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 6: Physical Affection</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>As your romantic relationship strengthens, so will your physical connection. Keep in mind that there is no specific destination to work toward, and any expectations should only come about through careful and clear communication. If your goal is truly to charm her, assume you have your entire lives to explore your physical relationship. Do not rush it, so that you can enjoy the journey fully.</em>
</p><hr/><p>When Crookshanks was fed up with Ron's attention, he abruptly stood, stretched, and trotted across the bed toward Hermione. He curled up contentedly behind Hermione's knees before yawning wildly and drifting off to sleep. With his hand now free, Ron brought <em>12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches</em> back to his lap, and shuffled the next chapter, <em>Physical Affection. </em></p><p>At the very beginning, the thought of advancing their physical relationship caused Ron significant anxiety. Having been friends for seven years before becoming romantically involved, he couldn't imagine going back to a <em>normal friendship</em> after seeing each other naked. Although Lavender had never seen him completely starkers, the progressions in that relationship never made him nervous, because there was no pre-existing friendship to risk. With Hermione, he found that the stakes were much higher- if he screwed up, there was a lot more to lose.</p><p>Nowadays, the nervousness of their first few experiences together seemed so far away.. Ron didn't think twice about stripping down for a shower, or simply to change clothes, and seeing her eyes linger on him no longer made him feel self-conscious. He knew she felt the same way when she thoughtlessly tugged her own clothes off after a long day at work, her bra usually being the first thing she ditched as she transitioned to more comfortable attire.</p><p>He no longer worried about pressuring her. At this point they had explored so much new territory together, that they learned how to clearly and confidently tell each other no. All it took was a playful swat to his hand and he would retreat instantly<em>.</em> He knew she'd never take offense if he groaned and pushed her gently away when she kissed him more fervently than was typical for an innocent greeting. Maybe he was already late for work, or he was too tired after Quidditch practice, or he didn't even have a reason, and that was ok too.</p><p>In other instances, all it took was a sultry look and raise of her eyebrow, and he would waste no time undoing the buttons of her blouse right there on the living room sofa. There was no time to be bashful when they hastily undressed each other in the powder room at a work party. Time was limited to a quick reprieve from the awkward small talk and polite compliments on food that couldn't quite satisfy his appetite like Hermione. Sometimes there'd be no reason to remove any clothing in her office between meetings, leaving little opportunity for self-consciousness. On those occasions, he'd lock her door, cast a muffliato charm, and hoist her up to her desk, before dipping his head underneath her skirt, running his tongue along her thigh, and tugging at her knickers with his teeth.</p><p>Their physical relationship had become so intuitive, and it was difficult to remember the awkwardness of their teenage selves. He had to remind himself that they didn't always know each other's bodies so well. There was a lot of trial and error at the beginning, and understanding what to do with his hands, how to move his fingers, and where to put his mouth required her guidance and feedback. He had to teach her just as much about his own preferences, and it took time, effort, and observation to master their crafts.</p><hr/><p>They remained in Australia for a few more weeks, spending their days together while the Grangers were at work. During that time, they continued to explore the city, eating at new restaurants, visiting new museums, and even riding that wooden roller coaster at Luna Park. There was a particularly memorable day at the beach, when they spent hours attempting to surf, before they had to cut the day short because their sun potion wasn't quite strong enough to protect Ron from the strong Australian rays.</p><p>With the stress of reversing the memory charm off their shoulders, their time in Australia started to feel more like a holiday, and not just in the city, but in their hotel room as well. Ron was pleased to discover how quickly things progressed between them when Hermione had nothing but time and her characteristic curiosity, but no looming exams or tasks ahead to occupy herself. The irony of the most unremarkable place housing some of his most memorable experiences was not lost on Ron, but he couldn't help but appreciate that the drab window-coverings and the peeling wallpaper only accentuated her uniqueness.</p><p>That hotel room was where she removed his shirt for the first time since he was splinched. Unlike during their second kiss, she didn't ignore his state of undress, but relished in it, landing a trail of kisses down his neck and chest. That hotel room was where he nervously slipped his hand under her shirt for the first time, inching against her bra in question until she nodded her permission. Even though it broke their kiss, he couldn't help but beam when he slid it further, because her breast fit so perfectly into the palm of his hand, and he'd never known the luxury of custom-made before. It was also where they finally had that very awkward, but very necessary conversation about what they had and hadn't done with other people. They spent some time on opposite ends of the bed, arms crossed stiffy, as Ron underwent an interrogation involving what Lavender had seen, touched, and experienced with him, but they spent even more time wrapped up in eachothers arms, wearing only half of their clothing, because it turned out there were still many more firsts to be had.</p><p>Not all of their free time was spent alone together. They committed their evenings to the Grangers so Hermione could reconnect fully with her family before the pair went back to England. Hermione was at first upset to learn that her parents had no intentions of coming back with them. They really loved their new home in Melbourne, things were going very well at their new dental practice, and transporting Herman overseas would be a <em>nightmare</em>.</p><p>They were outside in their yard when the conversation first came up. Hugo had assigned Ron to '<em>Burger Duty'</em> while he mixed up cocktails for everyone, leaving Ron to pretend he knew how a grill worked. With his wand stashed inconspicuously up his sleeve, he made a point to thank his mother for the cooking spells she forced on him growing up. He was also thankful for the cooler weather that allowed him to comfortably wear long, wand-obscuring sleeves.</p><p>"It's quite cold," he said. "I always thought Australia would be warmer."</p><p>"Well," said Jean, who was busy playing fetch with Herman. "Since we're in the southern hemisphere, it's winter now. That's why it would probably make more sense for you both to visit us over the Christmas holidays, and we can come see you in the summer."</p><p>Ron was thrilled by the implication of her use of "we", but Hermione was caught up in another detail of her answer.</p><p>"Wait…," she started, sounding hurt. "You're not coming back to England?"</p><p>As the pair began to argue, Ron was quickly redirected by Hugo, who handed him a drink. "Burgers are looking great Ron!" he said brightly. "Let's leave them for a bit and head inside, I have something I want to show you."</p><p>"Er, sounds good," said Ron as he closed the lid to the grill and followed Mr. Granger into the house.</p><p>"Do you like the drink?" Hugo asked casually.</p><p>Ron hastily took a sip of the creamy drink before answering. "Yeah, it's good. What is it?"</p><p>Hugo laughed. "Well right now it's an Alexander without the gin." They were in the kitchen now, and Hugo reached into one of the cabinets to pull out a mid sized green-tinted bottle. "Archie Rose. A truly superb Australian Gin." He motioned for Ron to hand over his glass, so he could complete his cocktail.</p><p>"Thank you, sir," said Ron, as he took another sip, which was decidedly stronger than his first.</p><p>"Hugo's fine," said Mr. Granger. "Sir's my dad."</p><p>Ron nodded. "Thank you, Hugo. It's a good drink." Ron followed Hugo's lead, and sat down at the barstool at the kitchen counter.</p><p>"I just wanted to give them some more space to hash it out," Hugo explained. "I figured that she wouldn't react well to the news that we're staying here."</p><p>"Yeah," said Ron. "I think she assumed you'd come back. Can't blame you, though. It's beautiful here."</p><p>"Well then, I hope you visit often," said Hugo, grinning at Ron.</p><p>Ron nodded again. "I'm sure we will."</p><p>It was then that Hugo's eyes narrowed slightly, but that could have been Ron's imagination. "So, you two are pretty serious then?"</p><p>Ron had been expecting this to come up, but the abruptness took him by surprise. "Well, um," he started, taking a sip of his cocktail to buy some time, but Hugo's eyes were still on him, expecting an answer. "We technically just got together at the beginning of the summer."</p><p>"Hmm," said Hugo. "And you're already serious enough to travel across the world with her?"</p><p>"Erm.. well, we've been friends for ages," Ron started, but paused when he saw that Hugo was smiling at him.</p><p>"I don't mean to make you sweat," he said. "I'm glad you've been there for her."</p><p>Ron felt relieved at Hugo's geniality, but wondered if it might be misguided. "Oh, well, of course. I care a lot about her."</p><p>"I can tell," he said with another sip. "I could tell a while ago, actually. Fourth year. Yule Ball, was it?"</p><p>Ron laughed. "She told you about that?"</p><p>"Well, she tells Jean everything. And Jean tells me."</p><p>"Gotcha," said Ron.</p><p>"And then there was sixth year," said Hugo. "I guess I should be thanking you for that one, since it meant she spent Christmas with us."</p><p>Ron felt a pang of guilt, and knew his face was turning beet-red. "I was kind of an arse that year," he said. He winced upon hearing his language, and hoped Hugo Granger didn't hate swearing as much as his daughter did.</p><p>Fortunately, he laughed. "I was an arse when I was sixteen too." He shrugged. "Seems like both of you have grown up since then."</p><p>Ron nodded. "We have."</p><p>Hugo took a deep breath, exhaled audibly, and paused before his next question. "Are you being safe?"</p><p>"Excuse me?" said Ron. His face was definitely ripening like a tomato now.</p><p>Hugo chuckled. "Are you using protection?"</p><p>"Um, well, no, we aren't-"</p><p>"Well, that concerns me," interrupted Hugo.</p><p>"We aren't having sex." Ron interjected a little more firmly.</p><p>"Ahh. You aren't having sex," said Hugo, with another casual sip of his drink. "Yet."</p><p>"Sorry?" Ron felt as though his stomach had tied itself up in knots, not unlike the sensation he became so accustomed to before a Quidditch game.</p><p>"Look, Ron. I like you. And I'm not stupid," he set down his glass and turned to look at Ron. "I'm not going to pretend that you're not thinking about having sex with my daughter. And I'm definitely not going to sit here and tell you not to, because I know that would be pointless."</p><p>Ron's gaze fell uncontrollably down to his near-empty glass, suddenly wishing that there was more alcohol in it. This unexpected conversation with Hermione's dad was starting to feel like an exam he hadn't prepared for.</p><p>"I just need to make sure two things happen when you do." He paused, and Ron realized he was waiting until he had his eye contact again. So reluctantly, Ron sat up straight, and turned to face him. Hugo nodded approvingly before continuing. "Promise me two things. One, you'll undoubtedly get consent. And two, you'll use protection. Both of those things, every single time."</p><p>Ron nodded. "Of course."</p><p>"I'm assuming you have sufficient knowledge regarding contraception? With five older brothers and all."</p><p>Ron nodded again, now faced with the unfortunate memory of his dad walking him through the use of contraceptive spells.</p><p>"Are there magical methods?"</p><p>"Er, yeah." Ron looked up at Hugo, who simply motioned for him to continue. "Um, there's a potion, and two types of spells. Female and male. They work alone but are more effective when done together."</p><p>"How long do they last?"</p><p>"Twenty-four hours," answered Ron, thankful that he had enough knowledge to answer confidently, as it seemed to reassure Hermione's dad.</p><p>"And you're confident you can perform them correctly?"</p><p>"Yeah,' said Ron. "I mean, I've never had an opportunity to test them, if that's what you're getting at. But they're not difficult, and you can perform another spell to check that it worked."</p><p>Hugo laughed. "I wasn't getting at that, but I appreciate your honesty. I trust you, Ron."</p><p>Ron exhaled the remaining air that he didn't realize he was holding, and Hugo poured a shot of gin into both of their empty glasses.</p><p>"That's right, take a breath. You did good," said Hugo, and Ron was encouraged to see the more relaxed Hugo reanimate. "I'll never forget when Jean's dad questioned me like that. I hate to say it, but you handled it much better than I did. How about a shot?"</p><p>"Please," said Ron, as Hugo laughed. Together, they tipped back their drinks.</p><p>When they recovered, Hugo playfully clapped Ron on the back. "I like you. Wouldn't have given you my most expensive gin if I didn't," he said, before standing up and turning toward the back door. "I think they're done with their tough conversation too. Let's have those burgers."</p><p>Ron sighed in relief, before he stood up and followed Hugo out the door.</p><p>The rest of the evening progressed with no mention of Ron and Hugo's conversation. Hermione seemed to accept that her parents were staying in Australia. They discussed travel plans, the state of their old dental practice, and what to do with their former house. They also engaged in lighter conversation concerning Herman's obedience classes, Jean's new book club, and Hugo's disastrous first attempt at parasailing.</p><p>After dinner with the Grangers, Hermione and Ron disapparated back to their hotel. Once in their bedroom, he didn't waste any time before he grabbed her hand and circled her around to face him. He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her. Thankful to be alone again, he let his hands wander further down her back, until they reached her bum.</p><p>She broke the grin with a smile. "At least buy me dinner first," she said playfully.</p><p>"Don't have to, your parents already did," he said before guiding her back to the bed, until they collapsed into a tangle of limbs on the mattress. They kept their lips together, letting their hands wander, until Ron slipped his hands up her shirt to unclasp her bra. It took him a few tries, a few weeks ago he might have been embarrassed by her chuckle, but this time he was reassured because it meant that she was comfortable with him. She sat up to help him slide the straps off her arms before pulling her bra out from underneath her shirt.</p><p>Ron smiled. "Thank you," he muttered before his hands found her body again like a magnet. It wasn't long before he willingly let her pull off his shirt, and she tossed it on the floor to accompany her bra. He smiled at her before tugging at the hem of her top. "Can I?" he asked.</p><p>"Yes of course," she whispered between kisses, and he slowly pulled her shirt up and over her head.</p><p>They'd been here before, just a few times, but Ron felt his breath catch in his throat like it was the first. "Come here," he told her as she pressed her lips back to his and he rolled onto his back so that she was on top of him. He let his hands slide to her breasts and her mouth opened to allow him entry. A moan had barely escaped him when she slid off of him to lay at his side, and pulled back.</p><p>"What if we showered together?" she asked unexpectedly.</p><p>Ron paused, surprised by her offer. It made him slightly anxious, as she'd never seen him without his trousers before. But he knew by the rosy tint of her cheeks that she must have felt the same way. "I'd like that," he said as his voice cracked nervously.</p><p>"Ok." She smiled and kissed him deeply, before slipping off of the bed, and making her way toward the bathroom.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, thought Ron. His heart was pounding as he laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if she was as nervous as he was. When he heard the shower faucet running, he thought it best not to leave her waiting, just in case she was.</p><p>She was already in the shower when he entered the bathroom, her clothing in a pile on the floor. He took a deep breath, as he undid the buttons of his trousers, letting them fall to his ankles. Then he slid out of his pants, before catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He was still scrawny and lanky, now sporting a few extra freckles and a peeling sunburn. But she'd seen all that before, and it wasn't what he was nervous about. He turned away from the mirror, so he wouldn't risk talking himself out of what he did next.</p><p>It wasn't the most effective shower that Ron had ever taken, nor was it very relaxing or calming. It was, however, one of the most nerve wracking showers of his life, and not because he thought there was a death eater on the other end of the shower curtain waiting to strike. It was because his breath caught in his throat when he stepped in beside her, and he saw all of her for the first time. He had been expecting the rush of self-consciousness he felt when her eyes moved slowly down his body, studying the parts of him that she had only imagined, but it still made his heart rate spike. He didn't think about what it would be like to kiss her when he didn't have any pants on to keep himself contained, and he definitely wasn't prepared for the first time she touched him without trousers to be accidental, brought on by the confined space they were in.</p><p>He hadn't thought this far ahead, and was paralyzed by the fact that he didn't know what to do. He had assumed that instinct would take over, but it didn't, so he simply pulled her close and kissed her, doing his best to pretend they weren't naked, and ignore that he was pressing against her in a way that begged for her attention. Then he reminded himself that it was <em>Hermione </em>here and he'd always been able to ask her anything, so that shouldn't be different just because they were starkers in a shower.</p><p>"Can I touch you?" he asked her nervously, while holding her to his chest, staring intently at the shower wall behind her.</p><p>He felt her nod against his shoulder.</p><p>He couldn't blame the color that crept up his neck and to his ears on the heat of the shower. He had her permission, but there was still one problem. "Can you… show me how?" he nearly whispered.</p><p>After a brief moment of hesitation, he felt her nod against him again.</p><p>He held his breath as she took his hand and guided it down her body, toward the opening of her legs, and he swore internally when he <em>felt</em> her for the first time. He observed her movements and studied the rhythm of his hand, trying to memorize any patterns because he could be a good student when he wanted to be.</p><p>Eventually, she removed her hand from his so she could grip the shower head instead, and he continued to mimic her patterns. He discovered that he could rely on the rise and fall of her chest, the erratic pattern of her breath, and the deepening rose color of her cheeks for feedback. So he kept observing her signals as he touched her, greatly enjoying this new, nonverbal form of communication.</p><p>He figured he was doing <em>something </em>right when she gripped the shower head more tightly, bit her lip, and threaded her free hand's fingers into his hair. He watched her chest rise and fall under the steady stream of water, her breath increasing in both pace and volume, building tension until she had to release. Her legs buckled underneath her and he held her against him as she audibly came undone, and the sound of shower head could no longer drown her out. <em>New favorite subject</em>, he thought. She'd always been a fantastic teacher after all.</p><p>She recovered and regained the support of her legs, and he reluctantly removed his arm from around her back. Her vulnerability in the moment had all but dissipated his own nervousness, so when she asked him what he wanted, he didn't at all feel weird about taking her hand, and showing her how he liked to be touched. It might have been the extra steam of the shower obscuring her view, or the fact that she had already unraveled in front of him, but he was no longer self conscious when he let go of her hand and got lost in the moment. It wasn't long until he was relying on his own hand to support him against the shower wall and he buried his head into her neck to muffle a string of profanity he would have filtered had he been able to elicit any control over his words.</p><p>A fantastic teacher she might be, it turns out she had always been an even better student.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Saying "I Love You"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry about the delay! I returned to my job after almost a week off, so I didn't have a lot of time to write. For those asking, I have not abandoned Completely Mental, I am just experiencing some writer's block. I am aware that I left it in a weird place, and promise to update it as soon as the inspiration strikes :). Thanks again to sm_jl and adenei for their feedback!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 7: Saying 'I Love You'</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>If there's any defining moment to a relationship, it would be the first utterance of the words 'I Love You'. Do not fear saying those words if they are true. But keep in mind that Love is more than just a feeling, it is also an action, and a responsibility. In this sense, the first 'I Love You' is a promise, and one that should not be taken lightly.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ron ran his fingers over the words "I Love You." They were pretty big words, but at this point, Ron said those three words so frequently, it was just routine.</p><p>A lot of things that seemed big at first had become routine. If he wasn't anxious about tomorrow, he'd have gone to bed with Hermione, casually muttering "<em>I love you," </em>before sliding his arms around her and drifting off to sleep. He'd wake up in the morning and again, mindlessly say "<em>I love you,</em>" and since it was a weekend, he'd stumble to the kitchen to make tea and start breakfast. Many things could happen that day— they might get into an argument over something dumb, they might make love, or they might not interact much at all, content to do their own activities, and none of it would break normal.</p><p>It's funny how those three words used to feel so foreign, but at this point, they were interchangeable with hello and goodbye. They'd slip out at work, when they passed each other in the hallways, as a reassurance after a bad day, or for no reason, to fill the silence in the room. It was difficult to remember the early days, and how much Ron had stressed over saying them.</p><p>Just because <em>I love you</em> was easy to say, didn't mean that it was easy to show. Ron blamed this on their routine. Hermione had a regular schedule, every day from 8am to 5pm. As an auror, Ron's varied widely, but he usually wasn't awake when Hermione left, so the first time they'd see each other was in the evening. If Ron had a late shift, they'd miss each other completely.</p><p>Sometimes they felt like roommates on completely opposite work and sleep schedules. The words '<em>I love you' </em>didn't carry nearly as much meaning as the actions behind them, and they could go days without seeing each other, which left little room for those actions.</p><p>Nowadays, they scheduled time to break the routine. They scheduled date nights- twice a month they would try a new restaurant, or explore a new part of town, or even take one of those wine and painting classes that muggles were so fond of. Some days they wouldn't go anywhere, but stay in and try cooking a new muggle recipe, and rent a movie to watch from the sofa.</p><p>It took effort to maintain their relationship with friends. When their work routines invaded their daily lives, they could go months without seeing Harry and Ginny. Harry and Ron saw each other enough at work- but that was as coworkers, not best friends. So they scheduled it- again, twice a month they'd have them over for dinner, or a movie, or if Harry and Hermione had final say, a muggle board game. A younger Ron might scoff at the normalcy of <em>double dates </em>with Harry and Ginny, but today's Ron cherished those days as much as his date nights with Hermione.</p><p>That same younger Ron probably would have thought of the need to schedule time together as a warning sign, but he would have been wrong. Today's Ron thought of his willingness to schedule that time as the action behind '<em>I Love You'</em>, finally giving those words the meaning they deserved.</p><hr/><p>After a teary goodbye, Ron and Hermione took a portkey back to London to return to "<em>their normal lives</em>", as if they existed. Mr. and Mrs. Granger weren't aware of the full extent of the trio's misadventures during the war, and they still maintained the impression that there was some routine for them to return to. But as they discovered upon their return, life at the Burrow was as chaotic as ever.</p><p>Ron and Harry had both decided not to return to Hogwarts, and instead take Kingsley up on his offer to begin auror training in the fall. Hermione and Ginny would be returning to school, which meant that Ron and Hermione had exactly one month to enjoy each other's company until they had to separate.</p><p>In a perfect world, that whole month would have been spent alone together, preferably in a bed, picking up where they left off in that hotel shower, but the life at the bustling Burrow required more from them. Instead, they spent their days with family, answering questions about their trip, helping Molly and Arthur around the house, and reconnecting with Harry and Ginny.</p><p>Although her house was just as full and lively as before, Mrs. Weasley was still deep enough in her grief to let certain things go unnoticed, most notably everyone's sleeping arrangements. It was Hermione who first informed Ron of the new plan, soon after she put her things back in Ginny's room.</p><p>They were outside by the garden, watching Mrs. Weasley play with Teddy down by the pond. Harry and Ginny were nowhere to be found, but that didn't bother Ron until he learned they'd been getting away with sharing a room.</p><p>"So, you're coming up to my room tonight?' he asked her as he leaned back in his chair, letting the late afternoon sunlight streak across his face.</p><p>Hermione nodded. "That's the plan."</p><p>"What about Harry?"</p><p>Hermione shrugged. "What about him?"</p><p>"We can't have much fun with that git sleeping next to us."</p><p>"He won't be," she said casually, as she took another sip of her lemonade.</p><p>Ron narrowed his eyes. "No, he can't sleep in Ginny's room."</p><p>"Where do you think he's been sleeping since I've been gone?"</p><p>Ron groaned, trying to wipe the image from his mind. "Tell Ginny it's not going to work out and to keep it in her pants."</p><p>"Ron!" said Hermione exasperatedly. "I can't. It wasn't exactly a question, more of a statement."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"I mean," said Hermione, turning to make eye contact. "She simply informed me of the new sleeping arrangements."</p><p>"And you didn't argue?"</p><p>"I didn't want to argue," she replied.</p><p>"Well, that's a first."</p><p>Hermione scowled at him, briefly, before a smile formed on her face, and she laughed. "Hold on, are we having an argument?"</p><p>"Yes," said Ron.</p><p>"It's our first!" said Hermione excitedly.</p><p>"It most definitely is not our first argument," said Ron, confused.</p><p>"Yes, it is! Unless you count right after the battle, but I don't. That was just you being upset, justifiably. This," she said, gesturing between them as if trying to describe their entire relationship, "is our first time bickering as a <em>couple.</em>"</p><p>"And that's a good thing?" asked Ron.</p><p>"Yes!" she exclaimed. "It means that we're legitimately together."</p><p>"I can think of a few times in that hotel room that could count as <em>legitimately together,</em>" he said snarkily, only to receive an eye-roll from Hermione.</p><p>"You know what I mean," she said, playfully swatting him on the arm.</p><p>"I know you're mental," he replied, before setting his face back in the sun, enjoying the mild British rays. The truth was, he knew exactly what she meant. Although the last few weeks had been fantastic, something about being at the Burrow, bickering, and not needing to touch each other every five seconds (although he happily would), made being Hermione's boyfriend feel normal. It was definitely a rhythm that he missed, and one he felt solidified their relationship.</p><p>He didn't win the sleeping arrangements argument, but that was ok. Only half of him wanted to win that one, anyway. Turns out Hermione was right, Mrs. Weasley was too caught up in her emotions to notice the change. Hermione and Harry would simply switch places in the evening, and switch back at dawn before Mrs. Weasley woke up, and it soon became their routine.</p><p>Harry and Ron didn't talk about it. When Harry returned every morning, they had the exact same conversation.</p><p>"Hi."</p><p>"Hi."</p><p>"Did you have a good night?"</p><p>"Yeah. You?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>And then they'd talk about something else. Anything else, while Ron pretended that Harry's definition of "a good night" was much, much different than his.</p><p>Once he pushed any thoughts of Harry and Ginny out of his mind, being with Hermione was quite effortless. They quickly fell back into the rhythm of being best friends. They bickered and argued so much that they frequently earned looks of exasperation from Harry and Ginny. They probably overdid their bickering that summer, because as it turned out, making up was a lot more fun as somebody's boyfriend.</p><p>In many ways, being Hermione's best friend made being her boyfriend much easier. Thanks to seven years of friendship, he was already used to her constant presence. There was no sudden change in his social circle or leisure activities because there was nothing new about the existence of their relationship, just the definition of it. Because he was her best friend, they could sit on the couch in the living room for hours, and not say one word to each other the entire time. He wouldn't feel pressure either, because they'd already grown accustomed to comfortable silences after years of reading in the common room together, or dining in the great hall, or studying in the library.</p><p>By contrast, it was also their seven years of friendship that fueled endless conversation. On multiple occasions, they stayed up from dusk to dawn, just talking. On one particular night, he learned that the first time she remembered doing accidental magic was when she was five, and she made a piece of broccoli explode because she was so upset about having to eat it. On that same night, he told her that his intense fear of spiders started when Fred and George turned his teddy bear into one, and he used to make up songs with Ginny and perform them for his parents. He even promised to sing one to her at some point, hoping she'd forget the offer.</p><p>That was one of many nights they just lied in bed together, learned as many obscure things about each other as they could, made each other laugh, and completely forgot to snog. It wasn't that he didn't love snogging, it just happened to be one of many things he loved about her.</p><p>Unfortunately, not all conversations were so effortless. Although he could tell Hermione embarrassing stories about himself all day, and he had no issue cursing wildly even though it made her adorably annoyed, there were three tiny words that got stuck in his throat every time he tried to say them. He had no doubt he loved her, but that tiny voice in the back of his head kept reminding him it was too soon, and that he'd scare her away, or worse, that she couldn't possibly love him back.</p><p>He wanted the moment to be perfect, so at first, he planned it out. There was one night that started and ended in the backyard treehouse. Like Hermione had after the funeral, Ron brought blankets and pillows, a bottle of firewhiskey, and cast a cushioning charm. It truly was a perfect night. There was talking, there was snogging, and there was comfortable silence as they stared up at the stars, arms around one another.</p><p>They woke up in stillness the next morning, completely unconcerned that someone might find their beds empty. He almost said it then, because what could be more romantic than the morning after a night of stargazing? He kissed her, preparing for the moment, but then caught a mischievous glint in her eye. The romance of the moment was broken when she smiled coyly and slipped her hand into his pants, and he <em>definitely</em> couldn't say it now, but he wasn't an idiot about to complain about a treehouse handjob.</p><p>He wanted to tell her again on a particularly memorable night in his room. They had spent the entire night in bed together, wearing minimal clothing, and exchanging even fewer words. As much as he enjoyed loving her nonverbally, those three words taunted him all night, just begging to be said. But his opportunity to tell her passed when for the first time, she let him dip his head under the blankets, and drag his lips from her neck to her breasts, to her warm, wet knickers. When he trailed kisses up her inner thigh and slipped his tongue between her legs, it became painfully obvious how much more he <em>wanted her, </em>and he didn't want to risk her sensing an ulterior motive in those words. So instead, he kept his mouth on her, writing them with his tongue, until he was thankful he had cast a silencing charm.</p><p>Instead of trying to create the perfect moment, he started looking for pre-existing opportunities. There was one by the pond a few days later. She was reading on the dock while Ron swam, doing his best to convince her to join him. He'd pull himself up on the dock like a determined sea lion only to jump in right beside her so she had to dodge her book out of the way.</p><p>"Ron!" she groaned, before drying her book with her wand.</p><p>He ducked under the dock to surface on the other side as quietly as he could, before pulling himself up to lay next to her. She tried to push him away, but he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him. She shrieked at his cold touch before conceding and relaxing into his arm. "Swim with me?" he asked?</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>He rolled off the dock and fell back into the water. He heard a splash behind him before felt her arms snake around his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist.</p><p>"I hate you, though," she said playfully.</p><p>He pressed a kiss to her lips. "That's too bad because I-"</p><p>The words seemed to be stuck in his throat. <em>What if she wasn't expecting them? Would it ruin the moment?</em> He looked around him, they were alone in the pond, bodies pressed together, hidden from the prying eyes of the burrow. Everything about this moment was perfect.</p><p>He finished his thought with another kiss.</p><p>They may have snogged in the pond for just a few seconds, or it could have been a few minutes. It could even have been hours and Ron wouldn't know. Time seemed to stop when he was with Hermione. They were eventually interrupted by a pair of splashes on either side of them.</p><p>"Get a room brother," came Ginny's voice as he and Hermione broke apart.</p><p>"We were alone…" said Ron.</p><p>"Well now you're not," piped Harry, and Ginny playful splashed them both before they swam deeper into the pond.</p><p>"What were you saying?" asked Hermione.</p><p>"Huh?</p><p>"Before we got distracted. It sounded like you were about to say something."</p><p>"Oh," said Ron, his ears heating up. "It was nothing." The moment had passed.</p><p>"Ok," said Hermione, shrugging, and the pair swam ahead to follow Harry and Ginny.</p><p>Then the perfect moment presented itself a few days later, while they were lying on the sofa on the porch. He was sprawled with his legs on her lap, dipping out in and out of a nap, while she read her book. She was mindlessly moving her hand up and down her calf, and he'd realized that he'd been taking all seven years of her platonic touch for granted. Maybe those three words would mean more, now that they were alone and fully clothed.</p><p>At one point she realized he wasn't sleeping. "What are you looking at?" she asked.</p><p>"You," he said. He reached for her hand and laced his fingers into hers.</p><p>"Why?" She pressed her free hand to her book, marking its place when it swung shut, and turned slightly to face him.</p><p><em>This was the moment</em>, he thought. If only he could just… say it. What was he afraid of?</p><p>He couldn't understand exactly why he struggled to say them. It wouldn't have been the first time, he told her he loved her. He let it slip in their sixth year, late at night in the common room. He was still dating Lavender back then, so she interpreted it as a friendly '<em>I love you'</em>, but that wasn't how he meant it. Back then he thought that letting it slip so early, before they were even together, would make it easier to say it later, because he had already formed the words and she had already heard them, but he was wrong. Saying it again felt as inevitable, and impossible as their second kiss.</p><p>"Ron?" she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He was suddenly nervous that his hesitation would diminish his sincerity if he said those words now.</p><p>"No reason," is what he settled with, before using her hand to pull himself up to a seat, and planting a quick kiss on her lips.</p><p>Just like their second kiss, those words eventually came about at a perfectly unplanned moment. The night before she was due to leave for Hogwarts, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny spent most of the night awake, soaking up each other's' company. After a celebratory dinner, most of the Weasley's continued celebrating the start of Hermione and Ginny's final year of schooling the only way they knew how- with a bonfire and butterbeer.</p><p>They sat around the fire, sipping at their drinks, and telling stories of their time at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry wondered aloud what Hermione would do for fun, now that they were gone. Ginny promised to make her relax and remind her to eat when she was too stressed. George gifted them some new prank items, and told them to "use them wisely." Hermione surprised everyone by pocketing them and thanking him, and promised to report back. Mrs. Weasley spent most of the night in tears, with her arms around either Ginny or Hermione, and Mr. Weasley offered his very best effort to convince McGonagall to set up a direct floo line from Hogwarts to the Burrow, but they all knew that was a long shot.</p><p>Eventually, it was just the four of them left. They knew it was time to call it a night, but none of them wanted to. When Hermione started shivering, instead of retreating to the warmth of the burrow, she gently turned to Ron and tugged at his jumper with a pleading look on her face. "Are you cold?"</p><p>"No," he said, sliding out of his jumper. She put it on, snaking her arms almost all the way through it, before wrapping them around herself. He chuckled and shifted in his chair, opening his arms in invitation. "Come here," he said.</p><p>She obliged, crawling into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder. Harry and Ginny took that as their opportunity to sneak away, strolling down toward the pond hand in hand. Ron did his best to block any thoughts about what they might get up to down there, and turned his full attention to Hermione.</p><p>He was feeling the effects of his butterbeer. It might just be what he needed to conjure up enough Gryffindor courage to tell her how he felt. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and buried his face in her hair.</p><p>"Hermione, I'm really going to miss you."</p><p>He could feel her nodding against his chest. She was still shivering slightly, so he ran his hands up and down her arms, to warm her up. She lifted her head from his chest and looked right at him, her eyes shiny with potential tears. Now was the moment, and he didn't let himself pause and second guess it.</p><p>"I love you, Hermione," he said, as clearly and firmly as he could muster. "I love you so much."</p><p>And he waited, for what seemed like an eternity, for her to say something. It was probably only a few seconds, but enough time for him to convince himself that even if she didn't feel the same way, she still deserved to know.</p><p>"Do you really mean that?" she asked earnestly, as a tear escaped down her cheek.</p><p>He ignored the pang of anxiety he felt, as he wiped the tear from her face. "Of course I do."</p><p>She narrowed her eyes. "How many drinks have you had?"</p><p>Ron sighed. He didn't know what he expected from her reaction, but it wasn't this. "Enough to finally say it," he pulled her forehead to his lips and kissed her. He let his lips linger there when he continued. "Not enough to lie about loving you, if that's what you're worried about-"</p><p>"Well, I love you too," she interrupted, her voice cracking slightly. She moved her hands from his neck to his head and shifted his lips down to meet hers, kissing him deeply. He snaked his arms around her waist and responded in kind. Many moments flashed through his mind, the first time they shared a bed, their first kiss, their first shower together, but none of them could compare to the way hearing those three words in her voice made him feel.</p><p>Turns out saying "I love you," was a lot like kissing. Once he got the first and second instances out of the way, the third, fourth, and fifth came with ease. He didn't miss any more opportunities to say those words. They were the last words he said before they fell asleep that night, and the first when he woke up the next morning. He only had a few hours to make the words feel familiar and natural, so he said them as much as he could, hoping they didn't sound too much like a lovesick lunatic, and that she would never tire of hearing them.</p><p>The morning passed too quickly, and before he knew it, they were on platform 9 ¾. They stood there teary-eyed, embraced each other, and exchanged those words for what would be the last time in months. All the hesitations he had about saying them suddenly felt silly, because they didn't even begin to fully describe how he truly felt. He told her he loved her, but he wanted to say so much more, and he wasn't even sure if strong enough words existed.</p><p>He'd have to settle for <em>I love you</em>, and hope he had the rest of his life to show her what he meant.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Navigating Arguments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back with my longest chapter yet! Obligatory THANK YOU to my betas sm_jl and adenei. Also, this chapter earns its explicit rating, so move along if that's not your thing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 8: Navigating Arguments</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>As your relationship deepens, expect disagreements to surface. All couples fight, but pay attention to the way you fight. Do your best to establish healthy and productive habits by focusing on your own feelings and actions, and never attack your partner's character. Remember that you're arguing with someone you love.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ron and Hermione were no strangers to fighting, and ultimately, Ron was thankful for that. Their friendship was based on an argument— If Ron hadn't called her a nightmare back in their first year, she would never have ended up crying in the girls' bathroom. And if she hadn't been crying in the girls' bathroom, she wouldn't have needed saving from a Mountain Troll.</p><p>That was the argument that began their friendship, but there were many more that defined it. In the third year, he thought he'd never talk to her again because her cat <em>definitely ate his rat</em>. But as it turned out, Crookshanks was innocent, his rat was really a middle-aged killer, and he missed her so much that he would have forgiven her even without those valid reasons.</p><p>Their fight at the Yule Ball in their fourth year also stood out as a defining moment. Hermione still thought of that as the moment when he finally realized she was a girl, but she was wrong. That was the moment he knew that <em>other people</em> realized she was a girl, and he convinced himself he was entirely undeserving of her attention.</p><p>He still cringed when he remembered their estrangement during year six, which Hermione now referred to as 'The Lavender Days." It might have taken a canary attack, but that fight showed him that they ultimately felt the same way about each other. Dating someone else for five months might not have been the most efficient way of discovering that, but it ultimately worked..</p><p>They could fight like dragons, but they always resolved them, even back when they just called each other friends. Their fights didn't end when their relationship began, and it would have been naive to assume so.</p><p>They argued about where to spend holidays, and splitting their vacation time equally between the Burrow and Australia frequently required a spreadsheet and a third party. They argued about dirty dishes, and messy rooms, and what to make for dinner. They even rowed about muggle movies, and whether to watch a romantic comedy or an action film. Ron only doubled down on his opinion there, because he believed more men needed to admit their love for romance films.</p><p>Ginny and Harry jokingly referred to their bickering as foreplay. Despite his initial embarrassment at their observation, he knew there was some truth to it. Their arguments remained a constant feature of their relationship as they progressed from friends to lovers, but making up— that got much better.</p><p>Before, when they were <em>just friends,</em> making up meant a handshake, or a hug, or a promise that they could talk to one another again. Now, making up meant hours in the bedroom, under the covers, naked. He'd developed a certain pride in how many ways he could say "I'm sorry," without speaking a word, and she'd gotten quite good at convincing him that all was forgiven.</p><p>Today he was pretty confident that they could get through any fight, but it hadn't always been that way. The first few <em>major</em> arguments of their relationship didn't have a solution in sight, and it took time to figure out how to row with one another in a way that didn't deepen their divide. When long estrangements ceased to work, they had to figure out how to fight productively, which took time. Sharing his feedback on their relationship was risky, but Ron soon found out that with that risk, came a big reward.</p><hr/><p>Harry and Ron both moved into Grimmauld Place and started Auror training soon after Hermione and Ginny left for Hogwarts. The long, empty schedules of summer felt so far away when they were suddenly faced with twelve-hour training shifts. Ron jumped into training enthusiastically because it was something to do, and it filled his time enough to get his mind off of missing Hermione.</p><p>He looked forward to writing her lengthy letters once a week, describing his days in as much detail as he was authorized to give. It was no substitute for talking to her, but it was the closest thing he had, so he cherished that time. She wrote back too, and he tried to imagine what it would be like to be with her at Hogwarts, based on the details she provided in her letters.</p><p>Luckily, Ron didn't have to wait until the Christmas holidays in order to see her. Her birthday fell on the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and he was able to get a day off of Auror training to meet her. It was a weekend to remember— they started at the Three Broomsticks, and caught up over a few rounds of butterbeer. Ron learned of all the details about school life that she hadn't mentioned in her letters, and she surprised him by agreeing to take a few shots of firewhiskey. They inched closer to one another with each passing sip, and it wasn't long before Ron was grateful they'd picked a booth in the back of the bar, hidden from view.</p><p>He could have stayed there all day, with Hermione in his lap, tasting the alcohol on her breath, but eventually, Madam Rosmerta forced them to leave. <em>Madam Rosmerta who?</em> Ron could hardly remember why the barmaid had caught his attention for so many years at Hogwarts. <em>Bloody mental, he was.</em> Madam Rosmerta was far from his mind when he pulled Hermione into an empty alley behind the bar, slipped his hands behind her thighs, and picked her up. He pressed her back against the brick wall as she wrapped her legs around him, and he wondered how many more secret Hogsmeade snogging spots they'd never gotten the chance to discover.</p><p>School must have picked up in October, because her letters were shorter. He still enjoyed reading them, but even more, he wished he could be there to relieve some of her stress— preferably in an alley behind a bar. He did his best to fill in the gaps, kept his letters as long and detailed as possible, and hoped that they'd be able to catch up fully during their next Hogsmeade weekend.</p><p>It was the end of October when he saw her again. They had planned to meet at the same place. Unfortunately when he arrived at the Three Broomsticks, the private booth they had enjoyed last month was taken, so he set himself up in one nearby, and simply hoped Hermione would see him.</p><p>She came rushing in after Ron had already finished his first butterbeer, and apologized for her lateness. Although he was well aware of her tendency to lose track of time in the library, there was a part of him that felt slightly offended. He didn't want to spend his only day with Hermione brooding, so he ordered a few more rounds of drinks, and listened intently as Hermione filled him in on the details of the previous month. She spoke of her homework load, her Head Girl duties, and lamented her lack of free time to write to him. He slipped his arm around her, stroked her hair, and pushed aside the hurt from earlier. It wasn't long before she was leaning against him, stroking his thigh, and he turned to kiss her.</p><p>It wasn't as frenzied as last month. She never made it to his lap, and Madam Rosmerta didn't need to kick them out. When they strolled down the high street, and he tried to guide her into that empty alley, <em>their empty alley</em>, she resisted.</p><p>"I have to get back to the library, Ron."</p><p>She looked away when she said it, and Ron assumed it was so she didn't have to see his face fall. He sighed.</p><p>"That's ok," he said, and he wrapped her in his arms for another kiss before letting her go. It was shorter and more chaste than he wanted it to be, but he cherished the contact either way.</p><p>He continued to write to her after that weekend, and she continued to respond, but her letters grew shorter and shorter. It seemed she had written most of them in the library in between essays. Based on her rushed responses, school was overwhelming. She had taken on more NEWTS than anyone else, and it was all starting to catch up to her.</p><p>He wanted to believe that was the only reason behind her disappointingly concise letters, but his resentment was growing. He was busy too, and he still looked forward to spending hours writing to her, because had no one else he wanted to share his life with. An old insecurity began to resurface with every hastily written note— he knew it was mental, but maybe she had someone else to talk to, so writing him felt redundant.</p><p>Before their November Hogsmeade weekend, Ron booked a room at the Hog's Head. He knew better than to think she'd be able to spend the night with him, but it meant that she could see him two days in a row, and there'd be a place for her to really unwind, away from the prying eyes of anyone at the Three Broomsticks. They still met at the bar, in the same private booth as their first trip.</p><p>Even though he expected her to arrive late and slightly frenzied, he was still annoyed when she did. He offered her a butterbeer, partially hoping that she would catch his stiff tone, but she didn't even notice. Hermione started rambling on and on about her schoolwork, her Head Girl duties, and the stress she felt at school. He listened intently as she described her daily life in detail, and he couldn't help but wish she had included it all in her letters.</p><p>They left on their own when the pub closed, and no one had to kick them out. Hermione turned toward the road that would take her back to Hogwarts, and Ron reached for her hand.</p><p>"Don't go back yet," he said, pulling her back around to face him. "I got us a room."</p><p>He expected she'd need some convincing, and was prepared for it.</p><p>"Ron, I can't stay the night—"</p><p>"I wasn't expecting you to!" he assured her.. 'I just figured we could use some alone time. And then you can come back tomorrow." He tugged on her arm, trying to pull her into his arms, but she resisted.</p><p>"Ron, I can't—," she looked at him apologetically. "I don't have any free time tomorrow."</p><p>"It's a Sunday, what else have you got?" he was still holding onto her arm, half-heartedly trying to pull her into a hug, but she just stood still, unresponsive to his touch.</p><p>"I have a meeting with the prefects, four essays to finish, and I need to start revising for exams."</p><p>"That's a lot for a Sunday," said Ron, noting the hint of frustration in his voice.</p><p>"Well I scheduled everything on Sunday to make room to see you today, so yeah, it's busier than normal."</p><p>Her words felt like a punch in his stomach. "Well thank you for making room for me, Hermione, I'm sorry I'm hard to fit into your schedule."</p><p>"Ron," she said, sounding hurt. "You can't be mad about that."</p><p>"Well, I'm upset," he returned. Something, whether it be anger, frustration, or hurt was boiling up inside of him. "It kind of sounds like you don't want to be around me."</p><p>"That's not true!" she said. "I just wish you had told me."</p><p>"I wanted it to be a surprise."</p><p>"I hate surprises," she said. "If we had planned this out earlier, I might have been able to schedule around it." She had slipped out of his grasp and was now facing him with her arms crossed.</p><p>"Plan it out? You hardly write to me anymore. I have no fucking clue what's going on in your life, how am I supposed to know what your schedule looks like if you don't talk to me!"</p><p>She took a step back, looking affronted. "Ron I write to you every week."</p><p>"And you hardly say anything."</p><p>"Well I'm sorry my letters aren't detailed enough, I'm doing my best to keep up with yours."</p><p>Ron froze, playing her words over and over again in his head. She was making room for him. Doing her best to keep up with his letters. Adjusting her schedule to fit him in. All of it sounded like he was just another chore on Hermione's to-do list. A burden.</p><p>"Do you still want to be with me?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think to filter them.</p><p>She stared at him, her lip quivering. "Of course I do. Why would you say that?"</p><p>"It just sounds like I'm stressing you out," he shrugged. He felt his own face burning hot, and even though it felt like a regression of their relationship, he willed himself not to cry in front of her.</p><p>"It's not you—," she started.</p><p>"Is there someone else, Hermione?" He braced himself for her answer.</p><p>"No! How could you think that!" She was crying now. He wanted to run to her and wipe the tears from her face, but he willed himself to stay rooted to the spot.</p><p>"I just had to ask," he said, as he shoved his hands in his pockets.</p><p>Ron watched the image in his head of how he'd planned the night dissipate. He and Hermione were supposed to be enjoying a bottle of wine in their private hotel room right now. He'd hoped they'd spend this night reconnecting, both verbally and non verbally. He definitely hadn't planned for them to be standing five feet away from each other in a cold alley, arms crossed, and holding back tears.</p><p>"I really should go back," she finally said, avoiding his eye contact.</p><p>"Fine," he said, resisting the temptation to pull her into a hug, kiss her, and tell her he loved her. He knew she wouldn't respond with the level of enthusiasm that would make him feel any better.</p><p>"I'll see you at Christmas."</p><p>"I'll see you at Christmas," he responded stiffly. He waited until she walked away before he let his tears fall, and disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.</p><p>Ron approached letter-writing with far less enthusiasm after their fight in Hogsmeade, but was grateful for some correspondence, however flat it seemed. They wrote to each other simply to make plans for the Holidays. Hermione was planning to spend the first week of Christmas at Grimmauld Place with him, before spending the second half in Australia with her parents.</p><p>He was pleased to learn that he was still invited to visit her parents, but unfortunately, Auror training didn't leave him with a long enough break to join her. His anxiety to see her again was growing, but he had no idea what to expect from their reunion. They had a lot to discuss since their last Hogsmeade date. Although he was committed to a calm conversation, they didn't have the best track record when it came to rational discussions.</p><p>Luckily, any tension he felt quickly melted away when she arrived. He felt a wave of relief when she collapsed into his arms as soon as she saw him, almost knocking him over.</p><p>"Hi," she murmured into his shoulder.</p><p>"Hi," he said, chuckling. "I missed you."</p><p>"I missed you too." She held him at arm's length, and lovingly brushed some of his fringe away from his eyes.</p><p>Ron smiled and tightened his grip on her waist, tugging her closer. Their lips met, and she moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair, and at least for a few moments, they forgot about any potential arguments on their horizon.</p><p>The conversation didn't come up until later that night. When she slid under the covers with him and her head landed on his chest, he automatically turned toward her and tangled his fingers in her hair before kissing her firmly on the top of her head.</p><p>"I love you so much," he told her.</p><p>"I love you too," she said sincerely. The unexpected wave of relief he felt indicated a fear he hadn't yet recognized he had. "You know that, right?" she continued, now looking up at him.</p><p>Her head slid off his chest and they turned to face each other. "Yeah. I know that."</p><p>She turned her gaze to her hand, which was tracing the scars on Ron's arm. "What went wrong?"</p><p>He knew they couldn't avoid the conversation any longer, so he took a deep breath before answering. "I know you love me, I just didn't really feel that way over the past few months." He felt her stiffen in his arms, and he tensed too, preparing for an angry retort.</p><p>But it never came. Instead, Hermione's eyebrows furrowed and she propped herself up on her shoulder. "You don't?" she asked in a small voice.</p><p>At this point Ron was aware of his own insecurities, and knew full well that Hermione might call them out. There was a part of him that wanted to shove this conversation under the rug, because he thought he shouldn't be insecure, and it might come across as needy, and she might not find that attractive. But he also knew that this was simply how he felt, it was affecting them, and it was valid even if it didn't make sense to her. He took another deep breath, and spoke with a shaky voice. "I questioned it a lot over the last few months, to be honest."</p><p>Hermione's eyes watered with tears, but she didn't say anything. She gently nodded for him to continue.</p><p>Ron hadn't really prepared to elaborate, which he now realized was a mistake. He didn't have a solution for her, and he didn't have a reason to tell her that didn't sound like blame. But he had her attention, so he continued, hoping the fact that his words weren't perfectly curated didn't come back later to bite him. "We hardly spoke. Your letters were so short. I couldn't help but feel like you rushed them, which made me worry you thought writing to me was a chore. Then our Hogsmeade weekends didn't go as planned, and I just kind of spiraled into thinking that you didn't miss me, which made me worry that you didn't love me—"</p><p>"That's why you thought I had met someone else? I had no idea you felt that way," she said, cutting him off. She snaked her arms around his neck so she was pressed up against him. "I'm sorry, Ron."</p><p>"It's ok," said Ron, even though it wasn't.</p><p>"I was just so stressed with school, and I couldn't really spend time with you, so I did my best to focus on classes so I didn't miss you too much. I thought if I could just get through this year, then we could go back to how things were over the summer. And honestly, I did think of writing to you as a chore, because it was a horrible substitute for actually talking to you, and just made me miss you more. I dreaded it."</p><p>Ron's stomach sank when she said that. Writing to Hermione was his favorite part of the week, and the fact that she didn't feel the same way really stung.</p><p>They laid there silently for a while, as neither seemed to have much to say. What was there to say? He hated it when she didn't write, and she hated writing to him. It seemed like there wasn't a solution.</p><p>"What do you want me to do?" she eventually asked.</p><p>Ron winced. He didn't want to tell her she had to do anything. He just wanted it to be simple.</p><p>"Ron, I'm not good at this," she said.</p><p>"Not good at what?"</p><p>"All of it," she said, motioning around her like she was referring to the room they were in. "I'm not good at being a girlfriend. Reading your mind. Knowing how to make sure you know I love you. Writing it in a letter doesn't feel sincere to me."</p><p>"That's not true," he told her. "You're a good girlfriend." Although she had a point, something was missing, and there were many times this past fall when he had felt like he didn't even have a girlfriend. He didn't know if he could make it six more months like that, unless something changed. "I just hate how much happened this fall that I knew nothing about. I just want to know everything. Sorry if that sounds needy."</p><p>"So you want me to write to you more. Is it that simple?" she asked earnestly.</p><p>Ron groaned. "Hermione, it's not a want. I need you to write to me more."</p><p>She looked at him contemplatively. "If it means that much to you, I can do that."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>She nodded. "I didn't know how it made you feel when I didn't write."</p><p>"Even though you hate writing to me?"</p><p>"Ron I don't hate writing to you. It just stresses me out and makes me sad," she turned to look him in the eyes. "But it's better than knowing you feel like this."</p><p>"Thank you," he said. He pulled her back in for another hug, this time turning to his back so she was on top of him. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it felt a lot better that she knew how he felt. "I love you."</p><p>"McGonagall did say," said Hermione thoughtfully, before she shook her head, evidently deciding against continuing that thought. "I love you too."</p><p>"What did she say?" asked Ron.</p><p>Hermione sighed. "She said I could use her floo in emergencies. But on second thought, I don't think she would consider needing to see my boyfriend an emergency."</p><p>"Can you ask her?"</p><p>"Ron—"</p><p>"Please."</p><p>Hermione sighed, then nodded. "I'll ask her. Because I love you."</p><p>Ron beamed at her, then captured her lips with his. A year ago, Ron had just returned to the horcrux hunt, and would never have dared to tell her he needed more from her. Back then, he was simply grateful she was speaking to him, and he figured he'd spend the rest of his life making up for leaving her. They really had come a long way, and maybe he had finally done enough to earn his keep.</p><p>Ron felt her snake her arms around his neck, which only made him want to kiss her more fervently, so he did. He pulled the hem of her shirt up and off her head, before tugging at his own, and tossing both to the side of the bed.</p><p>He smiled at the view before him. Some things he would never get used to. His lips crashed back into hers before he trailed kisses down her neck, dragging his hand from her breast to the buttons on her jeans. She helped him slide her jeans off until she was down to her knickers, and then shimmied his way back up to her smiling face for another kiss. He kept his lips on hers as he kicked his own trousers off, and when they broke apart, she moved her mouth to his neck. Ron felt her teeth gently bite down into the soft flesh of his neck and he groaned almost involuntarily.</p><p>"Fuck, Hermione."</p><p>He felt her hand slide down his body and slip inside his pants. She smiled approvingly at his very evident excitement to see her, and shifted lower on his body, trailing kisses down his stomach. Ron propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see her tug his erection free from his pants, and slide her mouth over the tip.</p><p>"Merlin," he heard himself say before he collapsed back on the bed in surrender, tangling one hand into her messy hair while the other gripped his bedsheets. His heart rate picked up when she dug her fingers into his thigh, and he knew she had to feel his pulse against her tongue. He quickly lost interest in controlling the volume of his voice, and it didn't take very long before he felt himself spill into her mouth and unleash a string of expletives when she swallowed.</p><p>He had barely recovered when she kissed her way back up his torso to his neck. She turned to her back, and tugged his arm so he shifted on top of her. "I love you," she whispered in his ear.</p><p>He pressed his lips to her neck, contemplating his many options for returning the favor. "Love you too."</p><p>He placed his forehead on hers to look her in the eye, and felt himself growing hard again when she bit her lip and looked at him shyly. "What do you want me to do for you?" he whispered, before leaning in for another brief kiss, gently tugging her lower lip with his teeth when he pulled away. "I'll do anything for you."</p><p>Hermione smiled sheepishly at him. "I did the charm."</p><p>Ron raised his eyebrows. "The charm?"</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>Ron felt his stomach tighten in nerves. At this point, they had pretty much done everything they could do without having sex. They'd been dancing around the topic for quite some time, so he had an inkling that it would come up over the holiday. But he stopped himself from getting too hopeful since things had been feeling off between them. "Are...are you sure?"</p><p>She nodded again. "Do you know your charm?"</p><p>"Yes," he said. "I know it."</p><p>"So, you should do it then," she said. "Unless you need more time to recover."</p><p>They both glanced down between them, where Ron's erection was awake and ready to go. Hermione chuckled.</p><p>"I don't think I need any more time." He shifted off of her and reached for his wand, before pointing it at himself and muttering the incantation that his brothers had embarrassingly made him memorize years ago.</p><p>Hermione hooked her fingers over the hem of his pants, and slid them down his legs. He stepped one leg out at a time, until he was completely starkers. Even though she had seen him naked many times before, he suddenly felt exposed. His face was red when he tugged at her knickers. She lifted her hips for him and he pulled them to her ankles, before she kicked them off and onto the floor where the rest of their clothes lay.</p><p>He steadied himself on top of her, shifting his hips between her legs. "One more time, you're sure?"</p><p>She nodded and opened her legs wider in answer.</p><p>Ron looked down and used his hand to rest himself at her opening. "Just tell me if you need me to stop, ok?"</p><p>"I will," she said.</p><p>He pressed forward, guiding himself slowly into her, watching her facial expressions for any sign of discomfort. When she looped her arm around his back and encouraged him closer, he pressed a little more firmly, and watched his erection start to disappear inside her.</p><p>He heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up to see she was wincing.</p><p>"Sorry!" he said, and he started to pull out, but she gripped his hips with her hand to stop him.</p><p>"No, stay," she said. "Just go slow."</p><p>Ron took a deep breath and pressed himself back in until she winced again and he stopped. "Is this ok?"</p><p>"Yes," she said, a little more high-pitched than normal.</p><p>"Ok," he answered, but he didn't move.</p><p>"You can go further."</p><p>"I don't want to hurt you," he said as he dropped a kiss to her lips.</p><p>"It's not that bad," she said sympathetically.</p><p>Ron chuckled. "That's what every guy wants to hear on their first time."</p><p>"That's not what I meant," laughed Hermione. She wrapped her legs around his lower back and pressed him the rest of the way, letting out another sharp exhale as their hips met. "Ok, let me get used to you."</p><p>Ron stayed perfectly still, save for his lips, which went immediately to her neck as he kissed her right below her jawbone. "Get used to me, huh?"</p><p>"Well yes," she said, running her fingernails up in circles on his back. "You're quite big."</p><p>"That's more like it," he said. He gently tugged some of the soft skin on her neck between his teeth, and could almost feel her rolling her eyes.</p><p>"Ok, you can move now," she said.</p><p>Ron propped himself back up on his forearms, and dropped another kiss to her lips, before he slowly started moving his hips back and forth, sliding in and out of her. "This ok?"</p><p>She nodded, and he continued. It wasn't smooth or graceful by any means, quite clumsy actually, and Ron was grateful for all the time they had spent in bed together before this moment. He was with the only person he trusted to share this awkward attempt at sex, and the self-consciousness he could have felt was far overshadowed by his gratitude for Hermione in that moment.</p><p>He watched her focused expression, which was distinctly different than the one he saw when she was about to let go, and he was relieved that he knew how to please her in other ways. He had a backup plan.</p><p>He steadied his hips to kiss her again. "I love you so fucking much," he said when he broke free. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he propped himself up on his arms again and picked up the pace of his hips. "Fuck, Hermione," he said as she tightened her legs around him and tugged on his hair, and soon enough he buried his face in her hair, muffling the sound of her name that escaped his lips.</p><p>He collapsed on top of her, and she untwined her legs from behind him. With one last kiss, he rolled off to his side, and turned to face her, smiling. "I love you too," she said. He ran a thumb across her cheek.</p><p>He smiled. "That was brilliant. For me."</p><p>She simply smiled.</p><p>"I'm sorry you didn't—"</p><p>"It's ok," she interrupted. "I didn't expect it the first time."</p><p>He slid his hand from her cheek to her breast. "We still have time," he said, eyebrows raised. She grinned and closed her eyes as dragged his fingers down her body, gently parting her legs for his fingers.</p><p>"We have our whole lives," she said. He smiled as she bit her lip, and he slipped his fingers between her thighs.</p><p><em>Our whole lives</em>, he thought. He could deal with that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Making Plans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again to my wonderful betas, and I appreciate your kind comments! I'm thrilled that people enjoy this story so much, it's been a blast to write so far.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 9: Making Plans</strong>
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  <em>A successful relationship means aligning your future. It's important to include one another in decisions, communicate your goals clearly, and remember your choices will affect your partner. Moving the relationship forward is a joint effort, and clear communication will make clear plans, and help manage the unexpected.</em>
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<p>If Ron could pinpoint one major difference between himself and Hermione, it would be this: Hermione was a planner, and Ron was not. During their school years, Ron frequently relied on Hermione's revising schedules before exams, or at least he tried to before inevitably entering examination rooms at least somewhat unprepared. During the horcrux hunt, he figured the best way to do something was just to do it, and he felt that Hermione's strategizing slowed them down quite a bit. They ended up going into the battle of Hogwarts without a plan, and everything (for the most part) worked out just fine— nothing that planning more would have fixed.</p>
<p>More recently, Hermione made an itinerary for a vacation to Italy. They managed to sync time off from their busy schedules, and Ron was ecstatic about some free time in a new country that he'd never been to before. Then he saw Hermione's hour by hour schedule for the week, and suddenly, their holiday felt like another busy week at work.</p>
<p>She had spreadsheets— some barmy muggle organizing systems— to keep track of their shared finances and bills, and she planned each purchase before she made it. She meal-prepped and bought groceries accordingly. She even had a system for apartment chores— the kitchen was always cleaned on Sundays and laundry was done on Saturdays, and if Ron changed it up it caused a domino effect that he couldn't even begin to predict.</p>
<p>However, he loosened her up quite a bit. After seeing their Italy itinerary, he encouraged her to cross out half of it and just go with the flow. She obliged, but not without a scowl, and as a result, they discovered new corners of wizarding Italy that they would never have found in guidebooks, simply because Ron met the right person in a bar. When she got her end-of-year bonus at work, he encouraged her not to save all of it, just be a little bit irresponsible for once, and he came home to find that floor to ceiling bookshelves now lined the walls of their sunroom, filled to the brim with new, crisp, untapped stories. There were those nights when Ron convinced her to dress up and dine out with him even when she'd already made a plan for dinner. She would act inconvenienced at first, but there was always a gleam in her eye when she donned that fancy dress that never got worn, they split not one, but two bottles of wine and ordered food they couldn't even pronounce. And of course, their home was usually spotless thanks to the chore schedule she'd made for them, but Ron liked it best when the laundry piled up a little, and dishes were left in the sink, and they distracted each other enough not to care.</p>
<p>Hermione begrudgingly agreed that she could let go and let life happen every now and then, and Ron was quite good at adding a little bit of the unexpected into their relationship. Ultimately, Ron respected her commitment to planning, and admitted more of it would serve him well. That's why the next day would test both of them.</p>
<p>On their date tomorrow, Ron was going to ask her to marry him. He had it all planned out, down to every detail. The entire day was scheduled for them, just how she liked it. But the best part of the plan was that she was not expecting it at all.</p>
<p>They'd discussed it of course— he was quite confident she'd say yes. He wouldn't dare ask her otherwise.</p>
<p>Their discussions of marriage had evolved over the last few years. The first time he brought it up was after one year of living together. Ron figured that was enough time together, and engagement seemed like a logical next step for them.</p>
<p>He didn't propose to her, he simply asked her what she'd say if he did. It took him quite a bit of courage to ask her that and unfortunately, her answer was not one Ron wanted, nor expected. Between "it's too soon" and "not enough time together" and "way too young" he regretted asking.</p>
<p>In her defense, he didn't bring it up in an ideal manner. It was after a Friday night at the bar with Harry, Dean, Neville, and Seamus, and Ron hadn't exactly demonstrated the most mature version of himself. They were both drunk upon their return home, so his slurred inquiry fell upon the most stubborn and emotional side of Hermione. Ron, who was slightly hurt by her response, reluctantly put the subject to rest.</p>
<p>He brought it up two years later at her cousin's wedding. Holly— Ellie's younger sister, who bore a striking resemblance to Hermione— wore a beautiful white dress that Ron couldn't help but picture on Hermione. He danced with her all evening, similar to the way they danced at his own brother's wedding years prior.</p>
<p>"Holly's dress is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked him.</p>
<p>Ron nodded against her head as they swayed on the dance floor. "It would look better on you." He braced himself for an unfavorable response. He was afraid she'd react the way she did that first time, but she needed to know it was on his mind. "I'd love to see you in a wedding dress someday, Hermione."</p>
<p>His heart was pounding, and his ears grew warmer, but he relaxed a little when she settled more heavily against him. "Someday, you will."</p>
<p>Not even a flock of canaries could have wiped the goofy grin from his face.</p>
<p>A year after that, Harry proposed to Ginny. Hermione was her maid of honor, and as expected, she jumped whole-heartedly into planning. The combination of Hermione's immaculate organization skills, Ginny's creativity, and Harry's money made their wedding one of the most fun and extravagant events Ron had ever been to.</p>
<p>Ron remembered waking up next to her the morning after. The periwinkle bridesmaid dress Ginny had chosen for her looked even better crumpled up on the floor beside their bed, and she'd never been more gorgeous with her matted hair and smeared makeup. They felt like hell— both had taken advantage of the open bar after fulfilling their wedding party duties, and neither could remember apparating back to their bedroom, but no one was splinched, and that's what mattered.</p>
<p>"Well, that was something," said Ron, recalling the blurry details of the night before. The live band, the five-course meal, the chocolate fountain, and Harry and Ginny's mystery cocktails made for the most memorable night that they couldn't recall.</p>
<p>"Is it bad that I'm glad it's over?" Hermione asked groggily.</p>
<p>Ron laughed. "No. It was a lot of work."</p>
<p>"Tell me about it," she said turning toward him. "When we get married, let's do something simple."</p>
<p>Ron was quite taken aback by how casually she mentioned this future wedding he'd heard nothing about. "When, or if?"</p>
<p>She smiled, as if clarifying was part of her plan. "When."</p>
<p>Ron beamed, and pulled her closer. "In that case, I'm going to propose to you, Hermione."</p>
<p>She beamed back. "Are you doing that now?"</p>
<p>"No," he said. "It's going to be a surprise."</p>
<p>"I hate surprises," she said cautiously. "So just so you're prepared, I'm going to say yes."</p>
<hr/>
<p>The rest of the holiday break passed without many hiccups. Sure, there was a bicker every now and then, but it was nothing compared to their Hogsmeade fight, and always maintained a rather playful tone. They spent the majority of their daytime with Harry and Ginny, occasionally popping by the burrow for a meal. Molly mentioned they seemed just as comfortable with each other now as they did that summer, "as if no time had passed." Harry and Ginny's eye rolls and sarcastic comments just reassured Ron that no one had noticed their recent rift.</p>
<p>Hermione seemed to be making a visible effort to show affection, and Ron appreciated her for it. Upon learning that he needed just a little more reassurance, she buried any qualms she once had about holding his hand under the table at the burrow, or chastely kissing him in the garden when they weren't alone, or even leaning up against him on the living room sofa, and gently stroking his hair while his brothers smiled knowingly. She was even less inhibited in the bedroom. They spent their evenings thoroughly exploring each other's bodies, now that a new door had been opened. Sex quickly became Ron's new favorite activity, although he felt like a walking teenage stereotype admitting it. It wasn't just the physical pleasure— something about the new level of knowledge he now possessed about Hermione solidified his status as her partner. As if a new book in a series had just been released, he suddenly felt like his favorite fantasy world had expanded. He made it a goal to absorb this new knowledge as respectfully and with as much admiration as he possibly could, taking immense pleasure in the fact that he was even allowed to be there.</p>
<p>Ron was dreading the second half of the holiday, because he had to go back to training, and she was leaving for Australia to visit her parents. Knowing Pigwidgeon would never be able to make that flight— not once, not twice, not nearly as many times as Ron would actually consider enough— he mentally prepared himself to go an entire week without hearing from Hermione. He also decided to call that progress— since two weeks ago, that would have felt like nothing.</p>
<p>They woke up together on the morning she had to leave. When she attempted to slide out of bed, he slipped his arm around her to prevent it.</p>
<p>"Don't leave," he mumbled into her hair.</p>
<p>"I have to," she said sadly. "I wish you could come with me."</p>
<p>"I can't." He tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her neck. "I wish I could write to you."</p>
<p>"Oh that reminds me," she said, wrestling out of Ron's grip. "I have another present for you." She leaned over the bed and pulled something shiny out of her bag.</p>
<p>"What's that?"</p>
<p>"Here," she said, placing one small gold coin in Ron's hand, and keeping another for herself.</p>
<p>"A galleon?"</p>
<p>"A fake one."</p>
<p>"Hold on, is this one of our DA galleons?"</p>
<p>"Yes! But I enchanted it further. Watch." She pulled out her wand and tapped the tip to the center of the coin, concentrating hard. The words "Hi Ron!" appeared. She showed him her coin, and the words had appeared on both.</p>
<p>Ron was dumbstruck. "We can communicate without owls?"</p>
<p>"Yes!" said Hermione.</p>
<p>"How did you think of this?"</p>
<p>"It's based on muggle technology, actually," she said. "My parents use pagers to communicate."</p>
<p>"I love muggles," said Ron, pulling her in for another hug. "And you."</p>
<p>"Love you too," she said, before pressing her lips to his. Her hands started to wander, effectively shifting Ron's from the DA coins, at least for the next few moments.</p>
<p>The new DA coins got quite a bit of use over the next week while Hermione was in Australia, and to Ron's excitement, when she went back to Hogwarts. It suddenly Ron felt like a wall had crumbled, and he had access to her daily life and thoughts. There was nothing better than feeling the gold coin in his pocket warm up, and seeing a message scrawled across the front. The short snippets of conversation helped him stay caught up on her thoughts.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Hermione: I just took a shot with my dad, what is happening?</p>
<p>Ron: Been there! Did he at least give you his expensive gin?</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Ron: I'm pretty sure Harry is singing to himself in the shower. He's not bad, actually.</p>
<p>Hermione: You should join him!</p>
<p>Ron: …</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Hermione: What are you up to?</p>
<p>Ron: Eating.</p>
<p>Hermione: Go figure</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Ron lived for these kinds of conversations. "Don't accidentally spend it!" was what she had told him, as if anything would be remotely worth it.</p>
<p>Although the coins were great for constant access to communication, they were not ideal for detail. When Hermione went back to school, he continued his weekly letters, and was pleasantly surprised that she did too.</p>
<p>The letters picked up where the coins left off, and rather than catching each other up on their daily lives, they used them to make plans. With the letters, they could fully detail their Hogsmeade trips, provide more context for their texts, and even begin discussing their ideas for term-end. Ron used a letter to suggest that Hermione move into Grimmauld Place with him and Harry after graduation, and he was thrilled that he didn't have to wait anxiously for pig to bring back her response, which was a resounding yes.</p>
<p>They didn't include all plans in their letters, because Hermione still managed to surprise him for his birthday. He came home from work on March 1st to find her sitting at their kitchen table with a big smile on her face.</p>
<p>"How did you get here?"</p>
<p>"Floo!" she said as she launched into his arms. "I told McGonagall it was an emergency."</p>
<p>"And what was the emergency," Ron said, hugging her so tightly that he lifted her off his feet.</p>
<p>"Your birthday!"</p>
<p>"And she let you leave?" he asked incredulously. She nodded. "I thought you hated surprises," he continued.</p>
<p>"I do, but I know you like them."</p>
<p>"I love them," he told her. "But I have to work this weekend —"</p>
<p>"No, you don't!" she said. "Harry's covering for you."</p>
<p>Ron beamed. "Really? He's in on this?"</p>
<p>She nodded. "Least he can do, for all the years he spent, you know, getting in our way."</p>
<p>Harry was not there to interfere that night, and thankfully, she had even more surprises planned for him. Ron didn't wake up predicting sex that day, and he definitely hadn't expected her to be wearing lacy lingerie under her school robes. One of the best surprises was how confidently she led him to his room, and pushed him onto the bed, expertly undoing the buttons of his jeans while her mouth never left his. His attraction to her was only multiplied by how unafraid she was to tell him what she wanted, and less surprising, but still unexpected, was his discovery of how much he liked being told what to do. Auror training had given him plenty of practice in taking orders, but until that night, he'd never enjoyed being so obedient.</p>
<p>It was the best birthday that Ron could remember. They spent the entire weekend in bed, either making love, or not making love, and he was grateful for all of it. Only three more months until they could do this every night, which reminded Ron to continue the disjointed conversation they'd been having over enchanted galleons.</p>
<p>"So I know you were planning on moving in here," he started. "What if we got our own place?"</p>
<p>"What about Harry?"</p>
<p>"What about him?" asked Ron.</p>
<p>"Won't he be lonely without you?"</p>
<p>Ron snorted. "He'll have Ginny."</p>
<p>Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes. "So he told you she's moving in?"</p>
<p>"I knew you knew!" he said playfully.</p>
<p>"You're ok with it?"</p>
<p>"No, but I don't want to live with it, I would feel better if we got our own place."</p>
<p>They agreed to wait until term ended to officially start apartment hunting, so that Hermione could fully focus on completing her NEWTS and job applications. When she went back to school, their communication faltered a little bit, but it didn't bother Ron as much as it did their first term, because he knew exactly why her letters were shorter, and he was thrilled she was making the effort.</p>
<p>Her letters were still detailed enough that he knew of each job application she submitted, and he could feel her excitement about one particular one— an entry-level position in the office of magical law. The open position specifically dealt with updating and passing laws regarding the rights of magical creatures and Ron felt that Hermione was completely mental to think she was anything but a shoe-in.</p>
<p>They planned to meet at the ministry for lunch before her interview, and Ron showed up expecting nothing short of panic from Hermione. He sat through lunch acting as an interviewer, and let her rehearse her answers and talking points for her entire meal. He probably asked her more questions about S.P.E.W that day than he ever did during their school years, and he was quite impressed to learn how much she knew about magical law, even though it was never a subject at Hogwarts. He might have been biased, but if he were really interviewing her, he would have hired her on the spot.</p>
<p>"You're going to be amazing, you know that?"</p>
<p>"I'm going to fail."</p>
<p>"They'd be lucky to have you," he told her, leaning in for a kiss across the table. He truly felt that way, they'd have to be idiots not to hire her, but again, he might be biased.</p>
<p>She trembled for the whole journey to her interview. Before she entered the interview room, he stopped her, and pulled her into his arms. "Just take five deep breaths, Hermione." He held her there, syncing his breathing up with hers, just like he did when she had a nightmare. Eventually, he felt her shoulders relax, and her spine straighten. "You can do this. You're brilliant."</p>
<p>"Thank you." She smiled gratefully and kissed him goodbye, or at least what she thought was goodbye. What she didn't know was that Ron had taken the afternoon off, and would be taking her out for a— likely celebratory— drink when the interview was over.</p>
<p>He sat down on a hallway bench and waited.</p>
<p>Hermione was beaming when she left the room an hour later, followed by two older, official-looking ministry employees. Ron stood as they each shook Hermione's hand. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they appeared to be making plans.</p>
<p>She bid them goodbye and turned to see Ron standing there. Ron smiled nervously— he knew she hated surprises. "You're still here?"</p>
<p>Ron nodded. "I figured you'd need a drink—"</p>
<p>He was interrupted by her flinging herself into his arms. "They hired me!"</p>
<p>Ron lifted her off her feet and kissed her, and in a way, it felt like their first kiss in the Room of Requirement. He didn't care that people he knew were passing them in the hallways, and some of them might be Hermione's future coworkers. He didn't care that snogging his girlfriend in a crowded ministry hallway contradicted the excuse he used to get out of work early— he wasn't coming down with anything contagious other than genuine elation.</p>
<p>They apparated back to Hogsmeade, and he took her out for a celebratory butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, so the bar was relatively empty, save for a few professors, but Ron and Hermione didn't care. They made their way to their favorite booth in the back of the bar, and toasted to Hermione's new job, because their plans were falling into place beautifully, like dominoes that had been so precariously set over the past eight years they'd known each other.</p>
<p>They spent that evening making plans, and all of their plans came true. Hermione aced her N.E.W.T.S. She graduated with top marks, and celebrated at the burrow with his family. She moved into Grimmauld Place temporarily, and after just two short weeks of researching and touring apartments, they moved into their very own flat. It was in a muggle neighborhood, but had a second guest room and was right on a train line so her parents could visit, but the thing that made it perfect was that she lived there. In a way, that evening at the Three Broomsticks felt like the first day of the rest of their lives— their future finally felt clear, and they could plan for it. But when she unexpectedly ordered another round, not of butterbeer— but firewhiskey, and suggested they rent a room at the Hog's Head to keep celebrating, he realized some of the best parts of his future with her would be entirely unplanned.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Integrating Your Lives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi there! I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 10: Integrating Your Lives</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>You'll find that the closer you become, the more time you'll spend together. Expect that integrating your lives— which includes moving in together, building relationships with each others' family, and merging your day to day routines— will require clear communication and effort. Keep in mind that you are now partners, not individuals, and be prepared to make compromises.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ron glanced at the clock— 12:02 am. Hermione had been asleep since 9:00 pm and was still snoring gently, looking as peaceful and beautiful as ever. Ron, who was used to a rotating schedule, could never fall asleep at the same time she did. Regardless, if he was home, he always went to bed with her, even if it meant lying awake for a few hours and reading, or petting Crookshanks, or simply staring at the ceiling and willing himself to fall asleep.</p><p>It was a compromise they made to assure some time together every week. He knew they'd never truly be able to integrate their schedules, so Ron savored the nights they could at least go to bed together. Even if she was asleep, it still felt like quality time when their lives wouldn't seamlessly match up.</p><p>Finding ways to maintain this <em>togetherness</em> had taken effort, because they didn't always seamlessly align. They usually didn't participate in the same hobbies, wake up at the same time in the morning, or agree on what was a reasonable hour to stay out on a Saturday night. Their differences were further punctuated by their upbringings— Ron, a pureblood, had to learn how to act around Hermione's non-magical extended family, and Hermione, an only-child, sometimes struggled with boisterous family gatherings at the Burrow. Although it wasn't easy, the effort to merge their lives had been well worth it.</p><p>Proposing to Hermione felt like the final step to fully integrating their lives. In a lot of ways, it already seemed like they were married— they shared a flat, their finances had blurred together over the years, and they frequently traveled together and attended events as a couple. They often spoke about purchasing a home and having children, and even agreed on their ideal timeline. They discussed job changes and promotions before making decisions, and listed one another as each other's emergency contacts at work. Even Molly and Arthur had been hinting at engagement for a while— well before Ginny and Harry's wedding— and over the years, the idea of getting married had evolved from an "if" to a "when".</p><p>'Girlfriend' simply didn't describe Hermione anymore, and Ron couldn't wait to start calling her his fiance. Trying to describe the seriousness of his relationship to others was like claiming he had won a Quidditch match that had no witnesses, and hoping that everyone would just take his word for it. Putting a ring on her finger would feel like a win, or "leveling up" if his life was one of those muggle video games.</p><p>He tried to describe this feeling to Jean and Hugo Granger during their last visit to Melbourne. They rented a small villa in St. Kilda to spend their winter holiday in Australia, and were hosting them for dinner one evening. Much to Hermione's amusement Ron had agonized over their visit, but she didn't even know the half of it.</p><p>"Why are you so nervous? You've met them plenty of times," she said, while distractedly chopping vegetables the muggle way. Ron winced as the knife slammed down on the cutting board much too close to her fingers for comfort. "You've even done shots and talked about sex with my dad. You have nothing to worry about."</p><p>Ron breathed a sigh of relief when she set the knife down and herded the vegetables into a casserole dish. "I just worry I'll say something that'll change their minds about me," he said, which was true to an extent— he was about to tell them he was planning to propose and ask them for their blessing, and he knew their true feelings about him, positive or negative, would emerge when he did. A faint voice in his mind kept reminding him that they could be acting, just waiting out this relationship until their daughter found "the one", likely a healer, a lawyer, or at least, someone who could carry on a conversation about classical music or muggle novels.</p><p>"Do you have the appetizers?" Hermione asked, gently tugging him away from his anxieties.</p><p>"Yes of course," said Ron, but it was a lie. He purposely left the grocer without the appetizers when they made preparations for this night. Hermione might be mildly annoyed, but he needed a reason to get her out of the house when her parents visited.</p><p>"Good! Get them ready, because my parents are here!" Hermione rushed to the door right as the bell rang, and Ron was immediately at the alcohol cabinet, fishing for the Archie Rose he had picked up at the local liquor store. He had been practicing his mixology skills, and was pretty sure could make Hugo an acceptable Alexander.</p><p>"Ron, how are you?" Hugo said as he entered the kitchen. He shook his hand firmly while patting him on the back in a gesture of familiarity. "What do you have here?"</p><p>"It's a drink called an Alexander, with a superb Australian Gin, Archie Rose," said Ron, jokingly mimicking Hugo's blended accent as he handed him the very same drink Hugo had introduced him to years prior. "I think you're familiar."</p><p>Hugo laughed. "Man after my own heart," he said, before taking a sip. "And very well done. I hope you wine and dine our daughter this well."</p><p>Ron grinned and turned to Jean, who had opened her arms for a hug. "Good to see you, Ronnie." Ron's face reddened at the nickname.</p><p>"Hermione said you were partial to Malbec?" asked Ron, once he had broken the hug. Jean didn't have time to answer before Ron had poured her a generous glass of red wine.</p><p>"Yes, I am! Oh, Hermione, what a charmer he is."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah," said a flustered Hermione. "Quite a charmer. Ron where are the appetizers?"</p><p>Ron smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Turns out I forgot them."</p><p>"You literally just said you had them—"</p><p>"I thought I did!"</p><p>"Seriously?" said Hermione. "Ok, mom and dad, I will be right back."</p><p>"Hon, we don't need appetizers—" said Jean, but Hermione was already out the door, having shot an annoyed look at Ron.</p><p>There was a moment where no one spoke, before Hugo chuckled and motioned toward the living room. "That's our little ray of sunshine," he said, before taking a seat. Jean and Ron followed, and settled into a comfortable silence.</p><p>Ron estimated he had about fifteen minutes before Hermione came back, so it was now or never.</p><p>He cleared his throat. "So," he began. "I did that on purpose. Forgot the appetizers, I mean."</p><p>Hugo and Jean looked confused at first, and then Jean laughed. "You forgot the appetizers on purpose?"</p><p>Ron nodded. "Yes, and I risked my head for it, and I don't have a lot of time before she comes back," he said. "I needed you two alone so we could talk."</p><p>Hermione's parents exchanged a knowing glance, then looked back at him expectantly. Jean wore a satisfied smile, while Hugo adorned a muffled smirk that said he knew exactly what Ron was going to say, and was taking quite a bit of pleasure in watching him sweat over it. "Carry on, then," he said.</p><p>"Right. Well, as you know, I've known Hermione for what seems like forever." He took a breath and felt a blush creep up his neck before he continued. "I no longer feel like the word "boyfriend" accurately describes my relationship with her. I think "husband" would fit me better, and I would like your blessing before I ask her."</p><p>It was probably only a few seconds of silence, but it felt like hours. For a moment Ron wondered what the clicking sound in the background was, until he realized it was the ice in his cocktail clattering against the glass as his hand trembled nervously. He scowled at his own hand and willed it to stop, as if it was a disobedient puppy.</p><p>"Oh, Ron," said Jean, breaking the silence She placed her wine on the coffee table, slid onto the sofa next to Ron, and engulfed him in her arms. He returned her hug graciously and breathed a sigh of relief. "We'd be so thrilled, Ron."</p><p>Ron couldn't help but notice that Hugo was still quietly swishing his drink. He put it to his lips and took a long sip, draining it completely, before looking up at Ron with a soft smile on his face. "So you just made me this cocktail to butter me up, didn't you?"</p><p>Ron risked a smile at Hugo. "Of course."</p><p>Hugo laughed and stood up from his seat, opening his arms to pull Ron into an embrace. He'd never hugged Hugo before, and it felt like a new level of acceptance. "I'm very happy Hermione brought you into our lives. You have our blessing."</p><p>Ron felt an involuntary smile creep across his face, as Jean wiped a tear from her eyes in his peripheral vision.</p><p>Hugo's affection was short-lived, but meaningful nonetheless. "Now enough sappiness," he said, pulling Ron back to arms length and offering a clap on the shoulder. "How about you pour me another swig of that Archie Rose, son." Hugo uttered the last word as if he was trying it on for size.</p><p>"Of course," said Ron, taking his glass and leading Hugo to the kitchen.</p><p>As Ron was pouring another glass, Hugo spoke quietly. "I know what you mean, though. I think 'son-in-law' suits you better than 'daughter's boyfriend', anyway."</p><p>He had already felt accepted by Hermione's parents, but having their support and blessing made him even more sure of his plans to marry her. If all went according to plan, he didn't just get to be Hermione's husband, but Jean and Hugo's son-in-law as well. Ron was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion— his eyes stinging with appreciative tears. He wasn't quite willing to let Hugo see him cry, so he managed to hold it back, but maybe someday he wouldn't have to. He distracted himself by pouring them both a second cup of gin, and the two men clinked glasses and threw back what would hopefully become one of many more shots of Archie Rose.</p><hr/><p>Just a few weeks of living together taught Ron more about Hermione than seven years of friendship, and one year of dating.</p><p>Ron now knew that the foot of their bed couldn't face the doors because of "bad Feng Shui'' and the sunshine yellow curtains had to go in the living room, because if they went in the dining room, they'd clash with the upholstery of the dining chairs. Apparently, there was a proper and an improper way to store cooking utensils, and each room had to have at least two sources of light, for some reason.</p><p>He learned that muggle technology was actually pretty useful. Since Ron and Hermione lived in a muggle neighborhood, they had to limit their magic so they didn't mess with their neighbors' electricity or internet. Over the last few weeks, Ron had learned how to work the dishwasher, the laundry machines, the television, and the computer. The computer was a wonderful invention— or at least Ron thought so until Hermione showed him the spreadsheets she had made (and expected him to use) that detailed their shared budget, and what house chores to do and when.</p><p>On the topic of house chores, Ron and Hermione had very different ideas about acceptable levels of cleanliness. Growing up at the Burrow, Ron had become accustomed to clutter. It's not that the Weasley's never cleaned— they cleaned constantly— but there was only so much that could be done to keep a home of seven children in order, and compromises had been made. Hermione, on the other hand, had always lived in a spotless home. The Grangers had one child who didn't even know how to make a mess, and enough disposable income to afford a weekly cleaning service. Ron had to learn that Quidditch magazines didn't belong on the kitchen counter, and shoes should always be placed back on the entryway shoe-rack, and there should never be a dirty dish left in the sink. He learned quickly— if he pulled his weight and helped make things five times cleaner than necessary, Hermione would be happy and they'd have more free time, which led to better— and naughtier uses for their spotless kitchen counter.</p><p>Ron and Hermione used the allure of electricity and a dishwasher to convince Molly and Arthur to join them for dinner one evening. Although supportive of their relationship, they weren't thrilled about them living together "so soon", but Ron knew Molly's disapproval had more to do with her motherly instincts than prudishness. He could suffer through a few passing remarks about modern relationships to assure that his mother still felt included in his life, and help soften her transition to an empty-nester. It only took a few glasses of wine and a goofy grin on Arthur's face as he clacked away at the computer for Molly to admit that living with Hermione was in Ron's best interest.</p><p>"It really is a lovely home dears," she told them, as the four huddled around the living room coffee table, sipping contentedly on their drinks.</p><p>"And this gin is something else, son," said Arthur, examining the Australian bottle that Hugo and Jean had gifted them as a housewarming present. "Bring some of this next time you come by the Burrow!"</p><p>Ron laughed, deciding against telling him exactly how far that gin had already traveled.</p><p>"Speaking of the Burrow," said Molly, her arm wrapped tightly around Ron, who's tallness made her appear to be clutching a flaming palm tree. "You're still expected to come by every Sunday. I know I can't force you, but it really would mean a lot—"</p><p>Ron and Hermione were quick to console her, promising to visit at least weekly, and assuring her she was always welcome at their flat.</p><p>"Oh, lovely. I would love to visit again," she said.</p><p>"But of course, we will owl you first," said Arthur more pointedly, with a subtle, but reassuring wink at Ron.</p><p>Arthur was thrilled at the opportunity to learn more about the muggle world, and Ron's knowledge of it grew exponentially by living with Hermione. When Hermione wanted to invite her cousins over to the flat, they spent weeks in preparation for their visit by straightening out their life stories, and "muggle-proofing" every detail.</p><p>Ron would practice describing his family as muggles, with help from Hermione of course.</p><p>"It's easier to lie if your lies are close to the truth," she told him, which was slightly unsettling to him, but he brushed it off. "So don't change their jobs completely, just make them more...muggley."</p><p>"Muggley?" he asked, eyebrows raised.</p><p>"Yes. For example, Charlie. He studies dragons in Romania. Everything about that is fine, except for the dragons. Just say he studies reptiles, it'll be ok if you're a little more vague."</p><p>Ron nodded. "Ok. And Bill works at a bank as a… security guard."</p><p>"That works," said Hermione.</p><p>"Mum stays home, and Dad works for the government. He's a…" Ron trailed off, racking his brains for a muggle equivalent.</p><p>"He works in Human Resources?" Hermione offered. "Nice and vague, and doesn't spark a lot of questions."</p><p>"Human Resources," Ron repeated. "Ginny is a football player, Percy is a lawyer, and George owns a shop."</p><p>"Perfect!" said Hermione.</p><p>"What if they ask what kind of shop?"</p><p>"Magic," she said simply. "Muggles love magic tricks."</p><p>Ron shrugged. "Magic it is."</p><p>They rehearsed the details of their cover stories whenever the opportunity arose, broadening the canon of their lives to make them seem believable. In the kitchen, cooking dinner, Hermione would casually ask him about his job. "What do you do, Ron?"</p><p>"I'm training to be a police officer," he would say, "and I work part-time at my brother's magic shop."</p><p>"What do you mean by 'magic'?"</p><p>"Magic tricks, it's a family hobby."</p><p>"And if they ask you to show them some tricks?"</p><p>"I will keep it simple— make something disappear and reappear elsewhere, or alter the appearance of playing cards," he said. "They really wouldn't question that?"</p><p>Hermione shook her head. "Most muggles don't."</p><p>"Barmy."</p><p>While preparing for bed, Hermione interrogated him about school.</p><p>"If they ask, what subjects did we study?"</p><p>"Potions was Chemistry, Herbology is Botany, and History of Magic would just be European History," he said as Hermione nodded. "Astronomy is the same...Transfiguration is Physical Science, Arithmancy is Maths, what about Divination?"</p><p>"Don't mention Divination."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"There's no respectable muggle equivalent," she muttered, and Ron half-wondered if that was true.</p><p>"What if they ask me questions about these subjects?"</p><p>"I'll tell them they're boring for talking academics at a dinner party," she said.</p><p>"And that will work?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Ron developed a much greater appreciation for the effort it took Hermione to keep her magical life separate from her muggle one. He never understood the depth of the lies she had developed to maintain relationships with her extended family. This whole world was new to him— just months ago, he didn't even know how to use a dishwasher or a laundry machine, and now he was developing an all-new muggle persona. Hermione, however, had been tossed into the magical world at eleven with no prior knowledge, and he hadn't once appreciated how overwhelming that must have been. At this point, it only provided further motivation for Ron to memorize everything he could about the muggle world, and dive in head-first. It was uncomfortable and nerve-wracking, but it was an experience she had already had, and he wanted to understand her.</p><p>Ron studied harder for an interaction with Hermione's muggle family than he had for any exam in school. Luckily, his preparations paid off.</p><p>When her cousins Holly and Ellie came by for dinner and drinks, Ron's story passed without a concern. No one questioned the professions of his siblings or parents, and Hermione was right— they didn't even ask about school subjects. Ron's magic "tricks" were a hit, but Ron might have pushed them too far when he transfigured a coin into a bird. Hermione's glare told him that a muggle's suspension of disbelief might not include animal transfiguration, but her cousins were just impressed.</p><p>"You should do that one at my son's birthday party!" Ellie had said, earning a quick change of subject from Hermione.</p><p>Ron was delighted to find that most of the conversation focused on Hermione— specifically on embarrassing stories from her childhood. Ron very much enjoyed hearing about the time Hermione accidentally spilled pudding all over herself at a fancy restaurant or the debilitating crush she had on a boyband, and the fact that she had memorized every dance move from their music videos. They joked that all it would take was two more glasses of wine, and she might suddenly remember them.</p><p>"Relax, Hermione, we love your man," Holly said, nudging her with an elbow and pouring her another glass of wine. Ron and Hermione shared a smile— only Ron knew why she was really nervous.</p><p>But Ellie and Holly were a blast to be around, and they had no suspicions about Ron, so Hermione eventually started to relax. She ended up indulging in two more glasses of wine, but unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough to showcase her hidden dance talents. Maybe next time.</p><p>Instead of dancing, they talked more candidly. A few glasses deep as well, Ron truly felt at ease around them, so he didn't mind when the questions got more personal.</p><p>"So tell me, Hermione, how's he in the bedroom?" Ellie asked, draping an arm around her cousin.</p><p>"Ellie, he's right there!" she said, her face flushed.</p><p>"No, it's ok, Hermione. I'd love to know," Ron said with a smile, earning a laugh from Ellie.</p><p>"I have to say I'm impressed, Ron," said Holly. "It seems like you've got quite a hold on our Hermione."</p><p>Hermione blushed and smiled sheepishly at Ron. "He does."</p><p>Ron grinned back and winked at her, a gesture that hadn't gone unnoticed.</p><p>"Well, then," said Ellie. "We will be leaving because clearly, you two want to get busy."</p><p>Neither Ron nor Hermione disputed that, so the evening concluded with the promise of many more. On their way out, Holly pointed back at Ron and said in a tone of mock seriousness, "Don't screw this up! She's worth settling down for."</p><p>"Ok bye," said Hermione, ushering them out before they could embarrass her more. They shared one last hug goodbye, and Ron and Hermione were alone again.</p><p>Hermione turned to look at Ron. "So…?"</p><p>"I love your family," he said. "Your parents, your cousins, everyone I've met so far." He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close.</p><p>Hermione smiled and let herself melt into his hug. "I love your family too."</p><p>"By the way," said Ron. "I'd hardly call being with you settling."</p><p>It was true. So far, being with Hermione only expanded, not limited his world, and he was confident there was a lifetime of things left to discover.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have always loved stories that detail Ron meeting Hermione's muggle family, but they are hard to find! I wanted to include that dimension in this story, and I hope you enjoyed my headcanon. If you have any recs for other stories that include scenes like that, I'm all ears! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Understanding Each Other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>-Thank you for being patient! This took a bit longer because I wanted to write the next chapter first… which means that the final chapter has already been drafted! I just need to polish it up and let my betas take a look before posting.</p><p>-Speaking of betas, THANK YOU sm_jl and adenei!</p><p>-And lastly, I'm so thrilled by the response to this little headcanon of mine, and quite sad it's coming to an end soon… :(. I hope you know that every single one of your subscriptions, bookmarks, comments and kudos brought a huge smile to my face!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 11: Understanding Each Other</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>At this point, you've probably known each other for a while, and have likely both witnessed her growth and experienced your own. You won't doubt that the task of understanding her is a complicated one. Although you will never truly know her, as everyone is constantly changing, it is important to try, and to let your efforts show.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Ron smiled down at the book, appreciating its throwback to the first chapter, <em>Getting To Know Her</em>. At first, Ron wouldn't have spotted a difference between the two steps, but now he could. He finally understood Hermione enough to know that she would always be full of mysteries to him.</p><p>In the past, unsolvable mysteries never intrigued Ron. Most subjects would start to frustrate him upon realizing he'd never truly understand them. He didn't see the point of pouring all his efforts into studying things that were constantly changing. Hermione was an exception of course. He used to consider the task of "getting to know her" to be a goal, a destination, but in reality, it was a never-ending adventure, one that proved that maybe there were some topics that could hold his interest no matter how vast.</p><p>Ever since he accepted that Hermione was someone he'd never fully understand, he began to enjoy the journey of trying, regardless of the outcome. Not only did Hermione-as-a-subject pique his interest, but her own inquisitiveness toward other unknowable things was contagious. Over the years of being with her, he had adopted a similar curiosity for the world around him. He developed an appreciation for its expansiveness, which included everything from stories and books, to science and nature, to government and politics, and of course, other people. The world really was a fascinating place, and he had Hermione to thank for that realization.</p><p>There was no one he wanted to share life's mysteries with more than Hermione. With her by his side, he felt like he could take on anything, which is why he couldn't wait to drop to one knee and ask her to continue the journey of life with him.</p><p>After receiving Jean and Hugo's blessing in Australia, it didn't take long for him to purchase a ring, and elicit Ginny and Harry's help forming an elaborate proposal plan. Over time, it had turned into something he was quite proud of. Not only did it incorporate her obsession with books, her thirst for adventure, and her love of riddles and problem-solving, it also offered her some insight into his own mind, something she'd long ago admitted she'd never understand, but she'd die trying.</p><p>He'd even arranged for Jean and Hugo to stay at the Burrow, which is where— if all went according to plan— they would enjoy a celebratory dinner as a newly engaged couple. In fact, her parents were already there. Ron had picked them up from the airport while Hermione was at work, taken them out for lunch, and dropped them off at the Burrow where Molly and Arthur took over entertaining them. Ron smiled at the memory of his dad's excited yelp upon learning that they'd be hosting muggles for a short stay. Arthur, who did not fully understand muggles, never missed an opportunity to learn as much as he could about them.</p><p>Jean and Hugo shared a similar fascination with everything magical at the Burrow. They were full of questions when they noticed household spells working in the background to keep laundry clean, wash dishes, even knit baby clothes for the grandchildren. Ron heard them both wonder aloud why Ron and Hermione never performed magic around them anymore. It seemed that their previous aversion to magic was likely just a fear of the unknown— a distrust that Hermione had accidentally instilled alongside her memory charms. By now it had faded into curiosity, and Ron realized that their commitment to keeping her magic hidden around her parents might be rooted in misunderstanding.</p><p>As Ron's curiosity grew over the years, he had started noticing it in other people. It appeared as Arthur's constant quest for information about the muggle world, Molly's incessant questions about Jean and Hugo's lives in Australia, and their equally enthusiastic inquiries about the Burrow. He had even noticed it in Harry, who after the war, found immense joy in life's small pleasures. With the stress of being The Chosen One a staple of his past, he seemed committed to enjoying the simplicity of finally being normal. Ron noticed more than curiosity. He noticed there was an openness, optimism, and enthusiasm for life that he now shared with others. Part of it was surely Hermione's thirst for knowledge rubbing off on him, but now that he was surrounded by people in love, he wondered how much his own happiness contributed.</p><p>Just maybe, the next day, everything would go according to his plan. If so, Hermione would conclude the day with a fresh stack of new books, a thoroughly exhausted mind, an engagement ring, and a fiance.</p><p>But of course, the world had a way of telling its own story. Years ago, that fact would have terrified him, but today it made him smile. If he could pick one lesson he'd learned from life thus far, it was that some of the best stories were born from the unexpected. Like snow on a warm window, he felt his anxieties about the perfect plan start to melt away, suddenly offering him a sense of reassuring clarity. Maybe being in love had made him naively optimistic, but he preferred to think that the last few years with Hermione had proved that the universe could also make perfect plans.</p><p>Whether his proposal was perfect, a complete disaster, or something in between ultimately didn't matter. He grinned at Hermione sleeping soundly beside him and just <em>knew</em> that whatever happened tomorrow would be brilliant. He was no longer nervous, but interested, excited, and of course, curious.</p><hr/><p>It didn't take long for Ron and Hermione to get used to living together. They fell into a comfortable rhythm in no time— maybe too comfortable of a rhythm— which occasionally meant functioning on autopilot.</p><p>They discovered that the most effective way to re-engage each other was to argue. Ron and Hermione were professionals at fighting— in fact they had hardly gone a year at Hogwarts without an epic relationship-defining row. During their first year, it was <em>The Troll Incident </em>which ironically began their friendship by luring Hermione into the bathroom to cry, and motivating Ron to set aside his grievances to admit he'd rather she'd not die. They credit their lack of fighting in their second year to the fact that Hermione was petrified for most of it. If she hadn't been, who knows what would have happened, and it's probably best not to think about it too much.</p><p>Their third year was marked by the <em>Scabbers Versus Crookshanks Debacle</em>, and they fondly referred to their fourth year as <em>The Year That Ron Realized Hermione Was A Girl. </em>They got through fifth year on a fragile agreement to put up a unified front for Harry, who was (to put it gently) having a really hard time, and neither could forget the casualties of their four-month estrangement in year six, or the fact that Riddle's locket had briefly severed their bond during the war.</p><p>Over time, these arguments taught Ron and Hermione a lot about each other, and even as adults-in-love, they continued to put that knowledge to use. Ron understood which buttons to press, and he always knew exactly where the line was. Like everything else that he'd learned through his years, discovering how far he could push her took trial, error and a few more relationship-defining fights.</p><p>Ron still shudders when he remembers the <em>Great Christmas Fight Of 1999</em>, which they now nostalgically call the "GCF". It was their first Christmas after moving in together, and at this point Ron can't even recall what started that fight. It could have been about their travel plans, or Hermione bringing work home, or the fact that Ron wanted to extend the Garden-Gnome-On-The-Christmas-Tree tradition to their own flat, but whatever it was, it opened pandora's box.</p><p>Whatever sparked the fight was just the tip of a large and treacherous iceberg. It's how Hermione and Ron learned that six months of living together without any fire wasn't natural for them. Until that day, they had been burying every minor annoyance to keep the peace between them, and thanks to the GCF, it all came spilling out in a flaming explosion of crying and yelling.</p><p>As it turned out, six months of "smooth sailing" was really six months of Ron squeezing the toothpaste bottle from the top instead of the bottom, drinking juice straight from the carton, and forgetting to take his shoes off at the front door, leaving muddy footprints everywhere, and making their flat looking like the Marauder's Map. It was six months of Hermione losing track of time and coming home from work late, constantly "re-organizing" drawers and cabinets so that Ron could never find <em>anything</em>, and meddling into his job as if his Auror missions were school assignments, and she was smarter than him.</p><p>He finally informed her of all those little annoying things she did— and in turn, learned that she had her own list of grievances about him. The GCF might have started with something small and unremarkable, but it ended with Ron feeling like she was watching him, taking notes of every small infraction so she could later use it in combat. Looking back, he was doing the exact same thing to her, but he didn't see it that way. Instead, the fight continued while he spent an entire defiant week at Grimmauld Place trying to prove Hermione wrong about <em>everything.</em></p><p>It was a step too far. His estrangement was only supposed to last one night, but it dragged on for that whole week. Ron and Hermione are two of the most stubborn, determined, and obstinate people that ever managed to come together, and neither wanted to be the one to admit their fault.</p><p>Luckily, they learned from it. The GCF is what made the <em>line that should not be crossed</em> crystal-clear. It taught Ron that angrily leaving reminded her of the lowest point of their relationship, and left her with little emotional currency to spend on effective mediation. After that fight, Hermione stopped baiting Ron into dangerous waters, because it never resulted in satisfaction. All it did was rub his insecurities about not being good enough in his face, and the more he believed them, the more inevitable a disastrous break-up felt. When the stakes were lower, his fighting became dirtier. It reminded them both that effective arguing meant finding solutions to their conflicts, instead of getting distracted by their hurt pride and completely forgetting how the argument started in the first place.</p><p>Most importantly, it showed them that fighting would always be part of their dynamic, and bottling up their feelings just ignited a time bomb. They've never had a repeat of the Great Christmas Fight of 1999, but they came close a few times. They fought in a way that resembled controlled burns, engaging in regular arguments that cleared any flammable ammunition that could accidentally burn their relationship to the ground if left ignored.</p><p>They simply loved bickering too much. It kept things interesting. Ron loved Hermione for her passion, and Hermione loved Ron for his sharp wit, so there really wasn't a better way for them to remind each other of the qualities they fell for. But thanks to the GCF, Ron knew where to draw the line, and Hermione understood what topics to avoid, and they argued in a raging peace that outsiders would never understand.</p><p>Fighting became another way to show their love for one another. They would yell, scream, and shout things that made others cringe and slink awkwardly out of the room to place bets on their break-up. What those others didn't understand was that these fights were how they demonstrated their knowledge of each others' boundaries. It provided them an opportunity to honor their limits, and paved the way for them to fall even more in love with each other.</p><p>Her boundaries were different when she was sick. When his normal level of playful antagonism suddenly became too much for her to handle, he knew to reel it in. It wasn't just a result of colds and the flu, but a monthly occurrence. Her tolerance for her annoying boyfriend would drop below its normal baseline for a few days, which warned him to tone down his pestering. It also served as a reminder to stock up on pain potion and practice his warming spells so he could help make her more comfortable. He would never understand the experience of period cramps, but he could do his very best to help her get through them.</p><p>Of course, Ron didn't just use arguing or illness to show Hermione how much he knew about her. His careful observation of Hermione over the years meant that he no longer cooked with fennel, he had an ever-expanding mental list of her favorite wines, and his birthday and Christmas presents had evolved from unusual-smelling perfumes to books she hasn't read yet, tickets to stage productions, or mentally challenging activities, like personalized scavenger hunts that engaged her strong desire to solve puzzles and answer riddles.</p><p>His favorite place to apply his hard-earned understanding of Hermione was in the bedroom. The solid, trusting foundation they had built paved the way for them to gently expand each other's boundaries. In a way, sex mirrored fighting, because they understood how to challenge each other and keep it interesting, while also demonstrating respect for one another's limits. At this point, Ron knew exactly where to push her and where to pull back, and it became an artful game, an engaging dance where their explorations sometimes reinforced their previous understanding of one another, and other times offered up a surprise.</p><p>Those explorations taught Ron that it was ok to phrase his bedroom requests as commands as long as she had a sense of physical control. That could mean that she was positioned on top, or was wearing more clothes than him, or that she had her wand and he didn't. He learned that her aversion to surprises translated into the bedroom, and their physical communication was always clearer when accompanied by words. He could snake an arm underneath her and flip her around so she was pinned underneath him, pull her hair, or dig his fingernails into her skin— as long as was expecting it.</p><p>He discovered that these boundaries were somewhat fluid when, one night, he pressed into her just a little more forcefully than normal, and shifted them forward so her arm got caught between the mattress and the headboard. He stopped when he realized that she was stuck, but to his surprise, she waved off his attempt to unpin her.</p><p>"Actually, I kind of like it."</p><p>And honestly, he did too.</p><p>He was then reminded of his brother Bill's words before his wedding so many years ago— that the best part of being with someone is the fact that they constantly change and evolve, and you'll never truly know them. It really did leave room for some fun surprises.</p><p>She still surprised him often, and not just in the bedroom. Ron understood— and supported— her career ambitions, and he knew she had a strict timeline for working her way up in the Department of Magical Law. He was aware of which promotions she was being considered for, and always had a bottle of champagne ready to celebrate when she would come home and excitedly announce her new title. That's why he didn't expect her to turn down a director position in favor of a lateral move across the department, just because she needed a "change of scenery." And although he was supportive, of course, her decision to step away from Magical Law completely to take a lower-paying, less prestigious social service internship at St. Mungos completely shocked him.</p><p>"I thought you loved Law," he remembered saying.</p><p>"I do," she reiterated when she told him the news. "But I've never tried anything else."</p><p>He popped the champagne anyway, silently hoping that she would never apply the same logic to being with him.</p><p>Ron also understood that unlike him, Hermione was accustomed to a certain level of financial security— when her underpaid internship meant a few household bills went overdue, they slashed all luxuries from their budget. Ron, now operating at his childhood default simply shrugged it off, while Hermione panicked.</p><p>"What if we miss rent?" she had said, pacing the living room.</p><p>"We move into Grimmauld Place," he answered nonchalantly.</p><p>"What if we starve?"</p><p>"My mum would never let that happen. Plus, muggles sure know how to make convenience foods taste good," he said, while heating up his second bowl of ramen.</p><p>Ron knew that her timeline for starting a family differed from his. He was ok with that, and did his best to silence any remaining hope that she would change her mind. But much as he tried to squash his desire to drop hints, he couldn't help but notice the moments that suggested she was bluffing.</p><p>The topic of babies started appearing in their conversations more frequently. She would casually tell Ron that she liked certain names, or gush at a pair of baby socks they would stumble upon while out shopping. She even asked Molly to see some of Ron's baby pictures and wondered aloud if their future kids would inherit his flaming red hair. She'd ask hypothetical questions that didn't seem that hypothetical at all.</p><p>"Do you like the name Rose?" she asked him once, when they strolled past a rosebush.</p><p>"I do," he said. "Why?"</p><p>"No reason."</p><p>She reacted with genuine enthusiasm when Ginny announced her pregnancy, and Ron wondered how much her detailed questions had to do with true concern for her friend. When James was born, and Ron and Hermione were named Godparents, she fell in love with him immediately. Ron did too, but he also fell more in love with Hermione when he saw how tenderly she looked at baby James. A fire ignited in his chest when she bounced James on her hip, read him bedtime stories, and begged Ginny and Harry to let them babysit.</p><p>"I think you both need to go out, have some fun," she told Ginny at Grimmauld Place, while holding a bottle to James' tiny face. "Ron and I can watch him."</p><p>"Hermione, are you sure?" Ginny glanced between them, a knowing, yet skeptical look on her face. Ron shrugged at her and smiled. "He's a lot of work."</p><p>"We can handle it." She sounded confident.</p><p>And they did handle it. Baby James regularly spent evenings with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron while Harry and Ginny enjoyed a parenting break. He had to laugh at Harry's words when Ron returned James one night.</p><p>"Isn't babysitting the best form of birth control?"</p><p>He laughed partly because it was funny, but mostly because he wasn't finding it to be true at all. In fact, there seemed to be a connection between James's birth and Hermione's sudden casual relationship with contraceptive charms. It was the same for him. He began hearing the words "It'll probably be fine this time," more often while they undressed each other and realized their wands were in another room. For Hermione, who was so averse to surprises and always needed a plan, occasionally shrugging off contraceptive spells could only mean one thing— that 'no babies until age 30' might be another flexible boundary.</p><p>They experienced a gradual, but clear shift in priorities. Seeing how happy Harry was as a husband and a father reinforced what he already knew— that he wanted his life to look like that too. Hermione's genuine elation when discussing their future together assured him that they were on the same page.</p><p>It didn't expedite his plan to propose to her, but it gave him all the confidence he needed to finally put his plan in motion. He picked up a few shifts at the joke shop to save more quickly for a ring. He suggested they pay a visit to Australia to see her parents over the winter holidays, and made a private plan to discuss marriage with Jean and Hugo. He even asked Harry for advice. Harry told Ginny, who simply said "about fucking time" and insisted she help him plan the perfect proposal.</p><p>Sometimes he wanted to go back in time and show his past self the elaborate plan he was creating to ask Hermione Granger to marry him. He'd inform first-year Ron that he was going to fall head-over-heels in love with the girl he had just called a <em>nightmare</em>. He would tell his fourth-year self not to worry so much about Viktor Krum. He'd assure that oblivious sixteen-year-old that yes, when she asked him to Slughorn's party she meant it <em>as a date</em>, and that he was wasting his time with Lavender Brown. He'd even encourage his seventeen-year-old self to just kiss her at Bill's wedding, or in the drawing-room at Grimmauld Place, or in that damn tent. He'd tell him to embrace her, let her know how he feels, and that he has nothing to worry about because one day he's going to propose, and she's probably going to say yes.</p><p>But he also knew that those tough moments were part of their story, and their relationship would continue to evolve over a lifetime. There was still so much about each other they didn't understand, and decades from now, their dynamic might be completely unrecognizable. Based on the past fifteen years of change, he had no idea what to expect from their future, but he could no longer wait to find out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Asking Her To Marry You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is, the final installment! Just in time for the New Year! Thanks again, everyone. I had so much fun writing this story, and I hope it brought you some joy. -Be11a</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Step 12: Asking Her To Marry You</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>At this point in your relationship, you'll hopefully know her well enough to plan the perfect proposal. But don't worry too much about perfection— if you've followed our advice, she'll be charmed enough to say yes to an imperfect one too. So alas, this is where our guidance ends, your future together begins. Best of luck! </em>
</p><hr/>
<p>Ron chuckled at the book's irritating, yet unsurprising lack of advice. Annoyingly, the book was right— he no longer needed its guidance. What he needed was sleep, in fact, his body was now begging for it.</p>
<p>He set the book on the table beside him and curled up behind Hermione. With his face in her hair and his arm around her waist, he closed his eyes and was asleep in no time. Any anxiety about the next day was appeased by his dreams, in which his elaborate— maybe slightly exaggerated— plan to propose went off without a hitch.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>xxx</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In his dream, Hermione was the first to rise— as usual, and Ron woke to the sound of the shower. Ron watched himself stumble out of bed and into the steam to join her, where she enthusiastically embraced him, jumped into his arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her lips, her cheeks and her neck before working his way down her body. Dream-Ron moved his mouth between her legs while Hermione gripped his hair and slipped her thigh over his shoulder. Pleased with his own technique, Ron smugly watched on as Hermione unraveled, and he hoped that it wouldn't be the last time that day Dream-Ron would invoke such an enthusiastic exclamation while down on one knee.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Almost too suddenly, the shower scene morphed and shifted like a memory transition in a pensive. Dream-Ron was in the kitchen, and Hermione was curled up in the living room with a book. Pots and pans sizzled on the stove, and the scent of a hearty breakfast filled the air. The tea-kettle whistled and he poured two cups before piling their plates high with food. They sat cozily on the sofa, eating breakfast and confirming plans for the day.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The walls of their apartment then faded away, rematerializing into what appeared to be a blend of a nearby bookstore and the Hogwarts library. Ron and Hermione were quickly engulfed by the maze of bookshelves. Hermione's mind was always turning, looking for problems to solve and puzzles to complete, so she didn't protest when Ron handed her the first book— Wuthering Heights, and told her he'd set up a puzzle for her to solve. In that book he'd dog-eared a page, and circled letters that named the title of the next one. Ron saw a smile spread across her face as she began her hunt, excitedly flipping through each novel until her stack included Wuthering Heights, as well as Iliad, Little Women, Life of Pi, Year of Wonders, Oliver Twist, and Utopia. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione became so engrossed in the scavenger hunt that she didn't notice Dream-Ron leave the bookshop. She had no problem finding the rest of the books, and was soon holding a stack of blurry titles which Ron knew to be Moby Dick, Alice in Wonderland, Robinson Crusoe, Rabbit Hill, Youngblood Hawke, and Mansfield Park. There was just one more to find— Jane Austen's 'Emma', which happened to be a portkey enchanted to bring her to Grimmauld Place. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It might have seemed like a random assortment of books, but it wasn't. Ron had spent significant effort locating these exact titles, and he could list them in order by memory, and as a result, they'd been swimming in his dreams for quite some time now. He knew Hermione was clever enough to figure out the pattern, possibly too clever— so much so that she might miss the connection entirely. After all, she frequently overlooked what was right under her nose. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As soon as she laid her hand on Emma, the walls of the Corner Books—Hogwarts Library hybrid started spinning, morphing into the drawing room of Grimmauld Place as if it had taken a long swig of polyjuice potion. Soon enough, Hermione was standing face-to-face with Harry and Ginny. </em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Hermione!" Ginny said excitedly. "You made it!"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Where's Ron?" she asked excitedly. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Harry answered by handing her another scrawl of paper.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Meet me in the place we first kissed. You're clever enough to find out how.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione looked up at Harry and Ginny, letting slip a little huff of annoyance. "That would be the room of requirement."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ginny shrugged, as tight-lipped as Ron had told her to be. </em>
</p>
<p>"<em>The only way to get there is with a house elf—"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Keep reading," said Harry. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione glanced back down to the note. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Ps: Remember what I said to earn that kiss!</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione scowled at the note. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry nodded. "I can summon Kreacher if you want—"</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>No!" she said, and Dream-Ron smiled. Just like at the Battle of Hogwarts, he would never force house elves to be part of his proposal plan, and he understood her well enough to assume she knew that. "There's another way."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Harry smiled and gestured to the rest of the house. "Have fun." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The world spun around her once again, shifting into another room upstairs. Hermione was suddenly standing in front of one of the Vanishing Cabinets that the Aurors had confiscated from an ex-Death Eater months prior. In his dream, the cabinet was a bit more obvious than in reality. It was tall, colorful, and bursting with energy as though it were alive, unlike the dull, dark, and sinister version that actually existed. Even though the cabinet looked fun and enticing in the dream, Dream-Hermione was still a skeptic, so she stood in front of it with her arms crossed, her face scrunched up as though it had called her a dirty word. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ron had pulled some serious strings to set the second one up in the Room of Requirement, but luckily, McGonagall was as much of a hopeless romantic as he was. Hermione continued to study the cabinet from a distance, as if checking for dark magic, and he understood her hesitation of course— she had no way of knowing where its sibling was. She gingerly opened the door to find another note scribbled inside.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>You found it! See you on the other side. </strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione beamed, and then to his confusion, dropped her bag to the floor, hastily removing books. When her bag appeared empty, she piled two books back in— Year of Wonders and Emma. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Interesting. Ron wasn't going to pretend to understand that choice, even in a dream-state. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He shrugged it off, which was easy to do once distracted by the look of pure giddiness on her face as she disappeared inside.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Grimmauld Place faded away, and its place appeared the Room of Requirement. Not that it was recognizable as such— Ron had asked the Room of Requirement to look a very specific way, and of course, it had obliged, exceeding all expectations. Hermione stepped out of the cabinet into what appeared to be a train compartment on the Hogwarts Express, just like the one where he had first met her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She looked around, and tears filled her eyes as the memories of their first encounter flooded in. On the cabinet door was another note, which she unstuck from the wall with a trembling hand. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>This is where we met! It's also where I first realized how much I valued the opinion of that precocious know-it-all, Hermione Granger. I still check for dirt on my nose every day.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione shakily laughed, and wiped a tear from her eyes with her free hand. Then the train compartment doors slid open to reveal another room. This time it was a bathroom, much like the one where she nearly lost her life to a rogue troll when they were eleven.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She shuddered at the memory, but grinned when she noticed the writing on the wall. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>This is where I learned exactly how desperate I was for your forgiveness, and how far I was willing to go to earn your friendship. Thank you for teaching me how to pronounce Wingardium Leviosa.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her eyes watered again, blurring her vision so that she nearly missed the door sliding open again to reveal the next room. Patting her sleeve to her eyes, she stepped out of the bathroom and into the Great Hall, which was all dolled up for the Yule Ball. The Weird Sisters playing loudly in the background was a stark contrast to the soft decorations and draping lights which looked exactly as romantic as they did in their fourth year. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This time, however, the lights spelled out a message. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>This where I realized I fancied you.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione laughed, clearly not as saddened by the memory as she could have been. Instead, she appeared grateful for the event that made Ron's daft teenage self realize she was not just any girl.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A pair of doors appeared across the room, and Hermione continued her way through, admiring the decorations with a soft smile on her face. When she exited, she found herself in the Gryffindor Common Room— more specifically— the armchairs and fireplace where they had spent so many nights huddled up close to one another, studying, talking, or simply sitting in comfortable silence. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her eyes paused on a message plastered on the wall, just above the fire. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>This is where I fell irrevocably in love with you.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She looked longingly at those chairs, like she wanted to take a seat by the fire and curl up with a blanket and a book. He could clearly imagine her eyes scanning the pages, her fingers drifting over the words as if touching them would make them real, and her lips forming into a content smile as the day's stress left her body. It was a beautiful image of her in her default state, a picture that was one hundred percent Hermione. He'd never seen her happier anywhere else.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dream-Ron had appeared behind her. He cleared his throat, and Hermione turned on her heels to face him, her eyes instantly re-watering at the sight of him. </em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Hermione," he began, his voice shaking with nerves. "I know that you don't like surprises, so I hope this doesn't come as one." </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Her lips quivered and she brought a trembling hand to her face to absorb the tears that were now falling freely down her face.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>I even spelled it out for you in the bookstore, so I hope you've had time to think of your answer." She softly laughed and her eyes sparkled when he reached into his pocket and took a step toward her, lowering himself to one knee. With a shaky inhale to prepare, he asked the question. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?" </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Dream-Ron's voice cracked like he was a teenager asking her to a dance, and he half expected her to look at him in confusion, and ask "what?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But that's not what happened. She was lost for words, and answered with her head which bobbed up and down as she ran toward him. He opened his arms to embrace her, but she halted.</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Wait!"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>She dug into her bag, and pulled out the two books she had purposefully brought with her, Year of Wonders, and Emma. She handed them to Dream-Ron, who looked them over with an amused grin on his face, while she dove back into her bag. She pulled out a third— one that was not from the bookstore. Pride and Prejudice— her favorite book, the one she always has with her. It all made sense now. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Year of Wonders</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Pride and Prejudice</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Holding all three books, Dream-Ron smiled up at her. "Is… this a yes?"</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Well, seeing as I don't have an S, it's a 'Yep'," she said, before finally diving into his embrace as the books tumbled from his arms like basilisk fangs.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>He had forgone all effort to keep from crying, and so had she. He momentarily pulled away from the hug to slide the ring onto her finger. It took a couple tries with their trembling hands, but then she fell heavier into his arms and he tightened his embrace. He lifted her up and carried her to an armchair, and they sat intertwined by the crackling fire, hugging, kissing, and crying into each other's hair. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Ron half expected the room to shape-shift again, bringing them to the celebration at the Burrow where their families were waiting, but his dream never got that far. Their embrace in the armchairs began to feel even more real</em>, <em>and soon enough, the Gryffindor Common Room was fading to black.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>xxx</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Ron awoke in his own bed, his arms still wrapped solidly around Hermione. The sun was shining through the window, sending a beam of light to the floor where Crookshanks slept, belly up, as if he was trying to photosynthesize. Hermione began to shift restlessly in her sleep, groaning, as the light knocked on her eyelids like an unwelcome solicitor.</p>
<p>Reality set in, and it would have been easy to feel sad upon realizing his perfectly-executed proposal was all a dream. But instead, Ron just felt giddy with excitement. This could very well be the start of the best day of his life.</p>
<p>As long as everything went according to plan.</p><hr/>
<p>"To Ron and Hermione!" exclaimed Arthur, reaching his champagne glass straight up into the air.</p>
<p>"To Ron and Hermione!" echoed a chorus of Weasleys, Grangers, and a Potter.</p>
<p>Glasses clinked, champagne splashed, and a beaming Ron slipped an arm around Hermione to pull her close to him. She tilted her head up to his, and he leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. He felt her arms wrap around his middle and vaguely heard a few whistles in the background.</p>
<p><em>Ron and Hermione. </em>It always had a ring to it.</p>
<p>No time had been wasted before preparing The Burrow for the celebration. CONGRATULATIONS was magically written on the wall in capitalized, tinsel-like lettering that flashed red and gold. Jean and Molly had prepared an impressive spread, which rivaled Hogwarts welcoming feasts. Hugo was already mentoring Arthur in the art of mixology, while Charlie and George eagerly volunteered to taste test each new cocktail. There was a cake shaped like an engagement ring, and it appeared that Ginny had gotten to it, because the words "about fucking time" were scribbled across in icing.</p>
<p>"So, Darling," said Jean, as she refilled her champagne glass. "Aren't you going to tell us how he proposed?"</p>
<p>"Yes, dear! Please tell everyone!" echoed Molly.</p>
<p>Hermione, who had just taken an unusually large bite of watermelon, replied with a look of surprise as if for some reason she hadn't expected that question. She slowly chewed, buying herself some time, and sent a panicked glance in Ron's direction. A silent conversation followed.</p>
<p>
  <em>How much do I tell them?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That's up to you. </em>
</p>
<p>They squinted at each other for a few more moments, finalizing the details of their abridged story. Then Hermione turned back to her mom.</p>
<p>"I'd love to tell that story."</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>xxx</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Earlier that day...</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>"Good morning," were the first words Ron mumbled at the start of the best day of his life.</p>
<p>"Morning," she muttered back.</p>
<p>He snaked his arm around her and pulled her close. "I love you."</p>
<p>"I love you too," she said, sending him a look of slight confusion at his eager confession of love. "I'll be right back," she added before hastily untangling himself from her arms, and bolting to the bathroom.</p>
<p>Ron groggily rolled out of bed to get dressed for the day. He opened the drawer of his nightstand to find the small velvet ring-box, and slipped it into his pocket before hobbling into the kitchen to make tea and start breakfast. He filled two mugs and set them aside to cool off while breakfast sizzled on the stove. His stomach twisted in a combination of hunger and nerves as he shuffled eggs around in the pan, planning out how he would introduce today's activities. Luring her to the bookstore should be easy enough, but he hoped she was feeling up to the rest of the adventure.</p>
<p>He heard the shower starting upstairs, and turned the stove down to low. Remembering the colorful beginning of last night's dream, he stumbled back into the bedroom, hoping Hermione wouldn't mind a visitor. He presumptuously pulled off his shirt before cracking open the door to unleash a flume of steam into the bedroom.</p>
<p>Ron froze at the sight of Hermione. The shower was running in the background, but she was crouched on the tile floor, hovering her face over the toilet while she wretched. One hand wrangled her hair behind her head, while the other supported her weight on the floor.</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p>"Hermione," stammered Ron. "Are… are you ok?" He rushed to her side and knelt down, taking her hair from her hands. He cleared some loose strands away from her face while she gently shook her head.</p>
<p>"No," she groaned. "Not okay—" her body interrupted her as she heaved again.</p>
<p>"Well, shit, Hermione," he said softly, hoping his disappointment didn't sour his words. Hermione rarely threw up. In fact, the last time he recalled had been during a panic attack in Australia before they found her parents. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time he'd held her hair on a bathroom floor while she vomited into the toilet. He felt a strange sense of pride, as if they had reached a new relationship milestone.</p>
<p>As his hopes for a smooth-sailing proposal started to fade, there was a part of him that considered asking her right there on the bathroom floor. It would have been the least romantic way to do it, and she'd probably hate him for it, but he doubted she'd say no. Something about seeing her in such a vulnerable state made his heart swell, and he wanted her to know it was that it was her humanity that he fell in love with.</p>
<p>Fuck, he'd marry her on a bathroom floor with vomit on her face, no question about it.</p>
<p>She grimaced and groaned, then leaned over the toilet yet again, and Ron gently held her close and rubbed her back as she suffered through the next wave of nausea.</p>
<p>He could maybe wait a little longer.</p>
<p>Eventually, she stood up and wiped her face, revealing an expression of utter embarrassment. "Thank you," she whispered, pointedly looking away from him. "I'm going to shower now."</p>
<p>Ron scoured his mind for something to say that might make her feel less awkward. His randy brain landed on, "do you mind if I join you?"</p>
<p>Hermione paused, then laughed. "You want to shower with me?" she asked incredulously. "After that?" she added, motioning toward the bathroom floor.</p>
<p>"Well… always," shrugged Ron.</p>
<p>"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I don't exactly feel sexy right now."</p>
<p>He wanted to tell her how wrong she was, and that his attraction to her was unconditional, but worried it would have come off insincere. "Ok. Breakfast is ready in the kitchen—"</p>
<p>"About that," she interrupted. "It smells wonderful but…" she trailed off, motioning to the toilet where she'd left last night's meal.</p>
<p>"Right," said Ron. "Would porridge be better?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Ok then. Porridge it is."</p>
<p>"Thank you."</p>
<p>Once in the kitchen, Ron scraped the remaining eggs and veggies into a leftovers box, and stored them in the refrigerator, before getting started on a gentler, blander breakfast.</p>
<p>To contrast the flavorless porridge he was making, Ron's mind shifted into overdrive, trying to rework his proposal plan to consider Hermione's nausea. Portkeys could upset even the strongest stomachs, and the Vanishing Cabinet was no walk in the park either. He had planned to floo to the Burrow from Grimmauld Place after returning together in the Vanishing Cabinet, and at the very least, they could always floo to the Burrow early…</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p>Ron tried to keep an open mind about the day ahead. Maybe Hermione would be feeling better after her shower, and a trip to the bookstore would cheer her up. If that didn't work, maybe his mum would be able to push the celebration back a day, and he could try tomorrow.</p>
<p>Everything was going to be fine.</p>
<p>He doubted that even more when Hermione never returned to the kitchen. Thinking he'd better go check on her, he left breakfast on the counter for the second time, and made his way back to the bedroom.</p>
<p>She had returned to the same place as before, crouched on the bathroom floor, head bowed over the toilet. She looked pale and sullen, and hadn't bothered to change into day clothes or dry her hair after her shower. Her sopping wet hair stuck firmly to her towel which seemed to absorb enough water to save their neglected houseplants and she sat on the tile with the heaviness of a bag of flour.</p>
<p>"Hermione?" Ron asked tenderly.</p>
<p>She shook her head, and covered her face with her hands.</p>
<p>"You're not feeling any better," he said.</p>
<p>Hermione shrugged.</p>
<p>Ron willed himself to emotionally detach from the remaining images of Hermione in a bookstore, the Room of Requirement, and the Burrow and sat down next to her. With a closer look at her face he realized she was crying.</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p>"What's wrong?" he asked, as he slipped an arm around her. "I'm worried about you. You're never sick."</p>
<p>She turned into him and buried her face in his chest, mumbling something incoherent.</p>
<p>"Sorry?" he said, pulling her close to him so he could hear her better.</p>
<p>Lifting her face from his chest for a brief moment, she said, "We haven't been spending mornings together."</p>
<p>She was right, their schedules had never lined up enough to enjoy waking up at the same time, and as of late that was even more true. "Hermione," he whispered. "Has this been happening a lot?"</p>
<p>Hermione nodded and pressed her face back into his chest. She spoke so softly against his shirt that he might not have heard her, but the words demanded his attention. "Ron, I'm pregnant."</p>
<p>The images that had been dancing in Ron's mind were still there— Hermione gathering books, searching for the Vanishing Cabinet at Grimmauld Place, wandering through Ron's memories, and embracing him by the fire in the common room. It almost felt that his mind was expanding so that those images took up less and less space, because they weren't actually real, and this was.</p>
<p>In all that extra space, his mind cycled through visions of his future, playing memories yet to be made. For the first time since he had decided to ask her to marry him, proposing felt like a simple task because he saw far beyond that now. He wanted to ask her, but then he wanted to hold her hair if she got sick again. He wanted to run out at weird hours of the night to buy the food she craved. He wanted to go to that bookstore, not so she could partake in his scavenger hunt, but so he could buy all the books about pregnancy and parenting.</p>
<p>"Are you serious?" were the words that tumbled out of his mouth, dripping with pure excitement. She nodded affirmatively, and an involuntary smile spread across his face. He reached a hand to her cheek to wipe away a tear, before landing his lips on her forehead.</p>
<p>He felt her grinning under his hand, seemingly pleased at his positive reaction. Her excitement gave her next question a melody. "Well...what do you want to do?" She asked it confidently, like she already knew what he would say.</p>
<p>But she didn't know.</p>
<p>"I want to marry you," he stated, like it was the most obvious question in the world.</p>
<p>She pulled away and squinted skeptically at him as if he might be joking, but there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes.</p>
<p>He then reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, and popped it open to reveal a beautiful solitaire ring— simple, understated, yet timeless, just like Hermione. Then a smile enveloped her face and she didn't need to say anything at all. She leaned into his embrace, and he felt tears leaking from his eyes, elation on his face, and nothing but happiness.</p>
<p>They sat there intertwined and crying for some time until he realized she'd never actually answered. "So… will you?"</p>
<p>She responded wordlessly, with an enthusiastic nod against his chest, and he slipped the ring onto her finger.</p>
<p>It really felt like the rest of the world had disappeared and they were alone, the only people that mattered. When reality started to filter back, Ron had to chuckle at the sudden realization of what room they were in. It was almost funny how much effort he had put into planning out the perfect day, only to propose to Hermione on a bathroom floor.</p>
<p>"I had a better plan, you know," he said finally. "To ask you."</p>
<p>She shook her head and mumbled into his chest. "This was perfect."</p>
<p>Maybe it was. Their friendship began in a bathroom, as did their relationship nearly eight years later, so it was quite fitting that he proposed in one too. He'd have to save his scavenger hunt for another occasion, but that was ok. He had a lifetime of opportunities ahead.</p>
<p>To outsiders, it might not be the most romantic story. Luckily, Ron didn't give a fuck what outsiders thought, because he had Hermione.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>xxx</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>"We had just woken up and were getting ready for the day. We got to talking, and I asked him what he wanted to do," she said, wiping a stray tear from her face. "He said 'I want to marry you.' I... didn't see it coming at all."</p>
<p>Ron was thankful for the fact that his lopsided grin was pretty much stuck to his face, otherwise he might have winced. As he had predicted, Hermione had left out the most important piece of information. Without it, it all sounded rather unremarkable.</p>
<p>"Out of the blue?" asked Molly, her eyebrows raised.</p>
<p>In his peripheral vision, Ron saw Harry and Ginny exchange a knowing glance.</p>
<p>"Out of the blue." said Hermione, before taking another big bite of her watermelon slice.</p>
<p>"I think that's so romantic!" Jean had one hand resting on her heart, and her eyes sparkled with tears. "Ron, did you plan it like that?"</p>
<p>Ron inhaled sharply at the sound of his name. "Um, well no, actually," he said, sending a reassuring look toward Hermione. "I had something more elaborate planned."</p>
<p>"Then what happened?"</p>
<p>Ron grinned as he watched Hermione show off her ring to Ginny and Angelina who had appeared at her shoulder. "I just couldn't wait any longer."</p>
<p>Molly and Jean's soft smiles and sparkling eyes suggested they were satisfied by that answer.</p>
<p>The celebrations continued into the evening hours, and sometime after dinner, Ron appeared at Hugo and Arthur's makeshift bar to find that Hugo already had a drink waiting for him.</p>
<p>"Congratulations again, son!" said Arthur, before engulfing him in another hug.</p>
<p>"Thanks Dad," he said.</p>
<p>"I'm going to check on my future daughter-in-law!" he said excitedly. "I'll see if she wants a drink."</p>
<p>Arthur scurried away, leaving Ron alone with Hugo.</p>
<p>"I already made you an Alexander," Hugo said, sliding the drink across the table to Ron. "Made one for Hermione too."</p>
<p>Ron felt his ears turning crimson, as if he'd been caught in a lie. Now was not the time to inform Hugo why his daughter wasn't drinking. He would just have to drink for two today.</p>
<p>However, Hugo was quite observant. In a whisper, he added, "there's no alcohol in hers."</p>
<p>Ron met Hugo's unflinching gaze, and the two men stared at each other for an uncomfortable pause. The tension finally broke when Hugo smiled, and Ron felt a wave of relief. "How did you know?"</p>
<p>Hugo chuckled. "I've never seen her eat watermelon." He took a dramatic swig of his own drink before continuing. "But Jean couldn't get enough of it when she was pregnant with Hermione."</p>
<p>Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was working her way through yet another slice of watermelon. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen her eating it, but was drawing a blank.</p>
<p>Hugo brought him out of his memories. "I guess our conversation about contraception was for shit."</p>
<p>If Ron had just met Hugo, he might have put more effort into formulating a diplomatic answer. He might have interpreted his pursed lips as stern disapproval rather than a weak attempt to prevent himself from laughing at his own joke. He definitely would not have burst out laughing and answered the way he did.</p>
<p>"Total shit."</p>
<p>Encouraged by a few cocktails, Hugo grinned widely and unleashed a hearty laugh. Then he did something surprising. He put down his glass, circled the table, and opened his arms to embrace Ron.</p>
<p>"I'm happy for you, son," he said softly. "I hope you're happy too."</p>
<p>Ron saw no reason to hold back his tears, so he didn't. He had always assumed his future father-in-law would consider Ron's happiness simply an extension of his daughter's, but Hugo proved him wrong. This was a man who cared about him deeply, as if he was his own son and Ron could feel it. "I've never been happier."</p>
<p>Hugo pulled him to arms length. Ron noticed a tear on his cheek and felt another wave of connection with the man. With a pat on his shoulder, he turned back to the bar and grabbed both glasses. "Now go have a drink. Have some fun," he said before adding with a wink, "while you can."</p>
<p>Ron found Hermione discussing wedding plans in the living room with Ginny and Angelina, and slid into a seat on the armrest of her chair. He pressed the glass into her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "non-alcoholic."</p>
<p>She looked up at him and mouthed, <em>thank you</em>, before leaning against him while he slipped his arm around her.</p>
<p>Ginny was smiling at them as more Weasleys piled into the living room. Seeing Ron and Hermione together ignited another toast from the group. "To Ron and Hermione."</p>
<p>"To Ron and Hermione!" echoed the crowd.</p>
<p><em>Plus one</em>.</p>
<p>He'd never been more excited about anything in his life, and it was clearly evident by his expression. When she clicked her glass against his and looked him right in the eyes, he saw his own elation reflecting back at him, and knew she felt the same way. They had come so far, but their story was only just beginning.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>xxx</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>The End.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Special shoutout to sm_jl and adenei for proofreading every chapter, I don't know what I'd do without you two. Please check out their profiles because they're pushing out some seriously good Romione content.</p>
<p>And of course, thank you to everyone who left kudos, a comment, bookmarked or subscribed. You gave me all the warm fuzzies. If you liked this fic, please let me know and leave a comment! You'll seriously make my day.</p>
<p>Happy 2021, everyone!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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